Landslide: An Alex Riley story
by Quiet REBel girl -with VoDKa
Summary: "But time makes you bolder, children get older. I'm getting older, too." After his entire world is unceremoniously ripped from beneath him, Alex struggles to learn how to stand on his own two feet. Too bad nothing's ever that simple. SLASH
1. Landslide

**Title:** Landslide

**Pairing:** clusterfuck.

**Rating:** M

**Summary:** "Well, I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I build my life around you." Mike dumps Alex. Alex turns to the only person he's got left for assistance. Much confusion ensues.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own shit.

**Author's Note:** This actually got started the night of Over the Limit, while I was watching it, because I'd had the idea for a little bit (parts of it) and I finally had the words to make it happen. This is my first chaptered fic that I'm posting in years, so bear with me. I'm gonna try and keep my updates regular, because I've already got this almost all the way done, but bear with me, because I work nights so I lose track of days A LOT. The story starts about a week before Over the Limit. Hope you enjoy. =)

**Warnings:** None.

Alex Riley is definitely the last person Heath expects to see when he opens the door to his and Justin's shared apartment, especially looking quite so disheveled and sad. His hair is a mess, like he's been tugging on it. His cheeks are bright red and swollen, his eyes still lined with tears. He's wringing his hands almost nervously in front of him, not even meeting Heath's eyes. The redhead lets out a sigh.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice bearing a bit of confusion.

"Is-is Justin here?" Alex mumbles, his voice scratchy.

Heath rolls his eyes. _Of course_, he thinks. He doesn't even bother shutting the door all the way before he turns and yells down the hall.

"Justin! There's a trainwreck at the door for you! Come handle it!"

Justin wanders out from the hall a moment later, curious expression on his face. Heath makes a dissmisive hand gesture towards the front door, disappearing towards his room. The high flyer's brow furrows and he opens the door. The sight before him nearly knocks the wind out of him. He reaches out and takes the younger by the shoulder, beckoning him forth into the house.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Justin asks softly.

Alex won't meet his eyes, so Justin takes his shoulders into smaller hands and forces the taller to look at him. When Alex does, the high flyer almost wishes he hadn't. He looks so..._broken_. Justin doesn't know what to say. He takes Alex's hand, leading him down the hall and into the safety of his room. He makes sure the door is shut behind them before he tugs Alex into the safety of his arms. The taller crumbles, clinging to Justin like he's falling, like Justin is the only thing keeping him from losing it all. The high flyer's not sure what to do, his arms coming up awkwardly to wrap around Alex as he shakes. The second his hand hits Alex's back, the other is speaking.

"M-Mike, he...oh, God...Mike le...le-left m-me..." Alex eventually stammers, his fingers tightening in Justin's shirt.

For the next two hours, those are the only words Alex manages. Justin's baffled. He can't fathom why Mike would have done such a thing. Everything had been going so well between the two of them! They had been the shining example of a couple, the two that everyone wanted to be! And now...it's just over? Alex is absolutely distraught, shattered over the whole thing. He sobs, holding tight even as Justin migrates them to the bed.

Justin continues holding Alex long after the younger has fallen asleep, exhausted himself with tears. His breathing still hitches in his sleep, however, and it makes Justin ache. He whispers soft endearments into Alex's ear even as he slumbers. Eventually, Justin drifts off as well, his arms around Alex the whole time.

**III**

When Justin blinks awake, it's to warm breath on his face. With his eyes barely open, he registers someone's lips precariously close to his own, and he startles, sitting up quickly. His breathing evens out when he realizes it's just Alex. Alex, whose cheeks are still streaked with tears, his whole face still swollen from hours of crying. Alex, who is still holding onto Justin's arm, even as he sits up. Alex, who has somehow managed to peel his shirt off during the night. Alex, who looks...pretty fucking amazing right now, all open and vulnerable, but still with an underlying presence of sheer sex appeal. Justin shakes his head, clears the thoughts out. Now is _not_ the time.

He pulls himself up and out of the bed, finding his own shirt where he'd thrown it in his own slumbering, and tugging it over his head. With one last look over his shoulder at Alex, he slips out the door, closing it quietly behind him. He bites back a cringe when he discovers Heath already awake and eating a bowl of cereal at the table. Justin ducks his head down, trying to avoid his best friend's gaze as the redhead looks up at him curiously. The smaller reaches into the cabinet, pulling out his own cereal and a bowl slowly. He turns around and gets the milk out of the fridge. When he turns back to his bowl, he nearly drops the milk. Heath is suddenly right next to him, putting his own bowl in the sink. The redhead about-faces, leaning against the counter with a light smile.

"Good morning." he says quietly.

"Uh, morning, Heath." Justin replies, attempting a smile. He curses his voice for cracking.

Heath shoots him a curious look. The second he opens his mouth to speak, however, they both hear the sound of Justin's door opening. Heath's eyes snap open wide when Alex pokes his head out of the hallway. Justin waves at the sleepy man shyly. Alex just nods before turning and walking back down the hall. Justin refuses to meet Heath's now narrowed eyes as they listen to Alex stumble in and out of the bathroom before finally making it back to Justin's room. Heath waits until they've heard the door close once again to speak.

"What in the hell is he doing here?" he demands, turning to the high flyer with an almost incredulous look.

"Mike left him." Justin tries to explain. It sounds kind of dumb, even to him.

Heath stares at him as if he's waiting for Justin to explain further. When Justin doesn't respond, the redhead motions with his hands.

"And...that's your problem...how?" Heath questions, and the high flyer looks like he wants to object. He opens his mouth, but instead just sighs.

"I'm not really sure." he finally mumbles, looking away again.

"Well, don't you think you should find out?" the redhead pushes, gazing at his friend expectantly.

Justin rolls his eyes, pushing the untouched cereal to the back of the counter and replacing the milk in the fridge.

"Fine, geez, I'm going." he grinds out.

The high flyer stalks off down the hall, muttering under his breath the whole way. When he gets to his door, he throws it open with a cry of Alex's name. It falls short, however, the second his eyes fall on the other. The younger is lying on his back, hands folded behind his head as he stares blankly at the ceiling. He doesn't even look sad anymore, just...empty. Justin cautiously makes his way over and sits down softly on the bed, pushing himself to rest against the headboard. After a few long, silent moments, Alex finally opens his mouth.

"What do you do when your entire world is flipped upside down?" It's said in almost a whisper, and Justin is instantly taken aback. He looks over at Alex with sadness in his eyes.

"I'm not really sure. I guess it would depend on how." Justin responds quietly.

Alex sits up suddenly, scrubs his hands over his face.

"God, he was _everything_ to me, Justin! I lived with him, traveled with him, partied with him...hell, I did his fucking laundry! And it's all gone, just like that. Fuck, my house was his house. My friends are all his friends! I just," Alex has to stop, take a deep breath. He turns his gaze on Justin as he lets out an uncharacteristic whimper. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

The high flyer is at a loss for words. He's never really thought of it like that before, but now that he is, he can see just how desperate the situation is. The two really had been attached at the hip. He can't even imagine how Alex feels now that that connection is severed. It must be terrible. Justin feels the bed shift and looks over at the other quickly. Alex is tugging his shirt over his head, straightening it as he makes his way around the room, grabbing his phone and things.

"I'm sorry, shit, I don't know what I'm doing here. I just, I didn't know where else to _go_. I mean, I know we're not best friends or anything, or even really close anymore, which is totally my fault. Fuck, I shouldn't be bothering you with this. You don't ca..." Alex trails off, stopping by the door and staring down at his feet. Eventually, he turns to Justin with a smile. "Look, I'm really sorry, Justin. I'll just, ah. I'll be on my way."

Justin stops him as he reaches for the door handle.

"Where are you going to go?" he asks, slipping a hint of curiosity into his voice to mask his own slight fear.

Alex turns back to him with a sad smile.

"I'm not sure." he replies, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. "I don't really...know anyone. Mike said to get out, and I started thinking about who I knew that wasn't Mike's friend first and...you were the only one I could think of."

Justin can't help the way his eyes open wide. Only him? Really? But when Justin thinks about it, it makes sense. That doesn't make it any less shocking. Alex coughs out a laugh and rubs the back of his head nervously.

"Although, I guess we're not really friends anymore-"

"Of course you're my friend, Alex." the high flyer interjects quickly, stifling the sentence before the other can even finish it. "Just because we haven't hung out in a while doesn't mean we're not still friends."

He watches Alex's features soften a bit, his nerves melting just slightly. It brings a soft smile to his own face.

"That means more to me than you know, Justin. Seriously. Thank you." Alex says quietly. Then, he opens the door, turning to exit. "But, uh, I'll be getting out of your hair now."

"Alex, wait." Justin hears the words leave his mouth before he has a chance to really process what he's saying. "You can stay here for a little while if you want."

Alex stops and spins around so fast he has to grab the door frame to steady himself.

"A-are you serious?" he asks, disbelief evident in his tone. "I mean, I don't want to impose or anything."

"No, you wouldn't be. Heath won't mind." Justin vouches, knowing immediately he's putting his own feet in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" Alex questions skeptically.

The high flyer nods, smile spreading across his face. "Of course! I promise, Alex. It's fine."

Before he knows what happened, arms are being slung around him, his face being pulled into Alex's neck. He inhales deeply, his eyes slipping closed as he lets the scent take over for a moment. He snaps out of it as Alex speaks.

"Thank you so much, Justin. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

The younger's hot breath against his ear heats up his face as well. _What in the hell have I gotten myself into?_ he thinks.

"It's, uh. It's no pro-problem." he manages.

He can only hope he's right.


	2. Mr Brightside

**Chapter:** 2: Mr. Brightside

**Author's Note:** So I was just going to update once a week, and I think after this I'm going to continue to do so, but I think I'm going to start updating on Tuesdays vs. Thursdays, so here, have an update. =D

"No way. Not gonna happen." Heath objects the moment Justin tells him about the situation.

They're walking back to the locker room after their training session. Justin turns around, walking backwards so he can look Heath in the eye.

"But, Heath, he doesn't have anywhere else to go!" he tries, hoping Heath will see how desperate he is.

"I don't care. He's not staying with us. He's such a tool!" Heath spits back, and Justin's eyes narrow.

"That's rude." he says, his face full of disappointment.

"No, it's freaking true." the redhead replies, pushing the door to the locker room open so Justin doesn't run into it. "He got up here and started fucking Mike-"

"Hey! They were in love, Heath." Justin snaps. At least, he'd like to believe they were. Alex was at least, and he'll be damned if he lets Heath talk about the younger like that.

"Started fucking Mike," Heath just talks over him. The high flyer rolls his eyes. "And got a big head. He's been stomping around here like he owns the place with Mike ever since. Yknow what? Maybe a blow to the ego will do him some good."

"That's messed up. You saw how upset he was. He really loved Mike, even if Mike didn't love him." Justin defends his friend. He pulls his shirt on, still glaring at the redhead. "And now, he's got nothing. No one. He got kicked out of his house, for God's sake."

"Justin, he's not your problem." Heath says exhasperatedly.

"No, Heath, he's my friend." the older snaps, standing up abruptly. He slings his bag over his shoulder. "And I'm going to help him. You're just going to have to get over it."

With that, Justin turns and storms out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. Heath lets out a sigh. He can't believe Justin has just, just _moved Alex Riley into their house_. He tugs at his hair, exhaling slowly before dropping to the bench. He drops his face into his hands. What the hell is he supposed to do now? He's so frustrated he could scream. The only problem is, he can't pinpoint exactly why. All he knows for sure is that he'll be damned if he's going to share Justin with Alex Riley. He's not sure why that thought makes his stomach squirm.

**XXXXX**

Mike slumps down on the couch, looking around the room almost dejectedly. The house has never felt so empty. It's so quiet he can hear his own thoughts for once. He hates it, and immediately feels a need to fill the space. He pulls out his phone, dialing the only person he can think of.

"What can the Shaman of Sexy do for you today, Michael?" the voice on the other end doesn't brighten his day as much as he thought it would, but it definitely helps.

"He did it. He came and got the last of his stuff today." Mike explains simply.

"And how do we feel?" John asks almost like a therapist.

"How do you think? Like shit." Mike snaps. He lets out a slow breath. "And it's so empty in here. He was right. This place really is too big for one person."

"I told you that, too, jerk." John objects playfully.

"Yea, well, it meant more coming from him. And now he's gone." the younger sighs.

"And now he's gone." his friend repeats. "So what are you gonna do now?"

"I really don't know, John." Mike pouts. He knows John can see it through the phone. "This sucks."

"Well, you can always take it back if you think it was a dumb idea." John suggests.

"No I can't. You know I can't. No, I decided I was going to do this, and I'm going to stick with it. It's the only way they'll leave him alone, John." the younger mutters.

"But is it really worth it if you leave him alone, too?"

The question makes Mike ache.

"I guess we'll just have to find out." he grinds out.

When he finally hangs up, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling one again. He lets his phone drop to the floor, thoughts of Alex running through his head. He was wrong before. _Now_ the house has never felt so empty.

**XXXXX**

Alex lets out a quick whoosh of air, flopping onto his back on the bed, his hands splayed out towards the head and the foot. Justin kicks off his shoes, sitting down on the other side and pushing himself back up against the headboard. He pulls his socks off, throwing them in the floor before turning to Alex with a smile.

"What I want to know," he begins, stretching his legs out in front of him. The bed's so large, they still don't reach Alex. "Is how you've managed to acquire so much shit? Seriously, we travel so much, when do you even have time to shop?"

"What can I say? Mike really knows how to treat a guy." Alex replies, a bittersweet smile on his face.

Justin wants to put his feet in his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Alex." he mutters, pulling his legs up under him and leaning down towards the younger.

"Nah, man, don't worry about it. I'm starting over, remember? Brand new Alex Riley." Alex says proudly, turning over to prop up on his elbows. He changes the subject as quickly as he can. "What I want to know is, are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the couch?"

"Are you serious? This bed is huge! It makes no sense for you to sleep on the couch." Justin reasons, spreading his arms as if to annunciate his point further.

_Plus I'm not entirely sure what Heath would do to you_, he adds silently.

"As long as it doesn't make you uncomfortable." Alex responds, smiling just a bit.

Justin leans forward, dropping onto his stomach and propping up on his own elbows. He reaches out and half ruffles Alex's hair.

"Like you could ever make me uncomfortable." he jokes.

Then, Alex is almost right in his face, smirk firmly in place. "You sure about that?"

Despite being said in a joking tone, Justin swallows thickly.

"I-I...Alex..." he manages.

Suddenly, the front door slams open, and Heath's loud angry voice rings down the hall.

"Dammit, Justin, that had better not be Alex Riley's truck in the driveway! And...god_dammit_, these are his shoes, aren't they? Justin Gabriel, get out here right now and tell my why his shit is here!" the redhead yells.

Justin groans, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the bed. Alex follows closely behind him, almost running into the smaller when he stops at the door.

"I thought you said he was-" Alex tries, guilt painted across his face.

"Wait right here." Justin cuts him off, not particularly ready to deal with this oncoming storm just yet.

He slips out the door, shutting it behind him. Right as he gets to the living room, Heath screams his name again, evidentially having missed him. He cringes against his friend's shout.

"Jesus Christ, Heath, shut _up_, I'm right here." he grinds out, walking over and dropping onto the couch. He kicks his feet up unceremoniously on the coffee table.

Heath storms over, knocking Justin's feet down and standing in front of him, hands on his hips. Justin is extremely proud of himself for not laughing. Heath has never looked more like an angry girlfriend, he thinks.

"Justin _Angel_, you have ten seconds to explain to me what Alex Riley's shit is doing in our apartment, and it had better not be that he is staying here, or _so help me God_-"

Justin stops his friend before he has a chance to finish his threats.

"Look, I told you he was going to be staying here, with me, for a little while." the older says, all nonchalance.

"I said I didn't want him here!" Heath objects, evidentially exhasperated.

"And I said I didn't give a shit." Justin counters. "Dammit Heath, Alex is my friend, and has been for a long time, and right now, he needs my help-"

"And you really think he would do the same for you?" the redhead snaps.

Truth be told, Justin really doesn't know. He's pretty sure Alex wouldn't have, is the thing. He shakes his head. That's not where they are right now.

"It doesn't matter if he would or not. What matters is that I'm helping him out right now. What matters is that he's staying here, and you're being a total dick." Justin almost growls.

Heath's argument dies on his tongue. He seems to visibly deflate right in frontof the high flyer. Justin immediately feels bad, even as Heath lets out a low breath and nearly collapses onto the couch next to the older, the fight seemingly kicked out of him. The redhead takes a moment before he turns to look at his friend.

"You really think I'm being a dick?" he asks, his voice smaller than normal.

"You've been kind of a massive one over this whole thing." Justin can't exactly lie to him.

Heath sighs.

"I'm sorry." he finally mumbles. "It's just...it's _Alex Riley_, man."

"And he's not that huge idiot he was a couple of weeks ago. He's different. He's...broken, almost. He's really hurt, Heath." the high flyer tries to get his point across this time.

Heath finally seems to cave, staring at his feet for a moment before pushing himself up off the couch.

"Alright, fine. Where is he? Back in your room?" the redhead asks, turning and heading down the hall.

"What? Heath, wait, what are you doing?" Justin questions, jumping up and rushing after his friend.

It's too late, however, for Heath has already knocked on the door, and Alex is opening it slowly, almost hiding behind it. He finally steps out from around it, looking at Heath sheepishly, as if the rehead is taller than him. He speaks before Heath gets a chance.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to impose. I just needed someplace to crash for a few days. I understand if that's not cool or whatever." Alex murmurs, and Heath's eyes widen slightly before his face falls. He feels like an asshole.

"No, dude. I'm the one who should be apologizing." Heath returns, ducking his own head a bit. "I was really rude, and I'm sorry. You can stay here as long as you need to."

Justin nearly chokes. Alex's eyes snap open as well. They're both completely floored by Heath's sudden change of attitude. It's like he's a new person. Justin is instantly skeptical.

"A-are you serious?" Alex asks breathlessly.

"For sure, man. It wouldn't be right of me to just turn you out. You are Justin's friend, after all." Heath mutters, still not meeting either of their eyes.

"Wow, Heath, I..._thank you_." Alex replies, grateful smile spreading across his face. He reaches out as if he's going to hug the other, but Heath backs away, putting his hands up as if to shield himself.

"Whoa there, none of that touchy feely crap. Save that for Gabriel...or someone." Heath grinds out.

Alex just laughs. "Alright, okay. Seriously, though, I really appreciate it."

"Yea, yea. Just don't wear out your welcome." Heath nearly threatens.

Justin scoffs just loud enough for the redhead to catch it. Heath rolls his eyes, tossing a dismissive hand gesture over his shoulder as he heads off down the hall once again. Justin hears Alex exhale like he'd been holding his breath for a long time, and he looks at him curiously. Alex looks at Justin shyly.

"I was so scared he was going to kill me, you don't even _know_." he says quietly, leaning in like it's a big secret.

Justin throws his head back, laughing loudly. As he pushes Alex backwards into the bedroom, stepping in behind him and closing the door, he thinks, _maybe this won't be so bad after all._


	3. Do What You Have to Do

**Chapter:** 3: Do What You Have To Do

**Author's Note:** I was going to be a lot more regular with updates and post these chapters once a week to give me a chance to finish writing it, but I'm getting impatient and overexcited. Haha. Plus, there's not TOO much left to write. So, here's another chapter, early. Takes place the night of the "I Quit" match. Hope you enjoy. =)

"You're an idiot." Chris's voice spills through the speakers the second Mike answers the phone.

"Hello to you, too." Mike replies, scowling at the device just a bit.

"Care to explain to me why Alex rode in with Justin Gabriel tonight?" Chris asks politely, and Mike immediately freezes up.

Gabriel? He'd ridden in with Gabriel? Why _had_ Alex ridden in with Gabriel? What the actual fuck?

"What the actual fuck? _Gabriel_?" Mike demands aloud.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you? You didn't even know where he _was_?" Chris says incredulously. "Just how bad was this fight?"

Mike takes a deep breath, dropping into one of the chairs in the dressing room and scrubbing a hand over his face.

"It wasn't a fight. I ended it." he mutters, his voice almost laced with guilt. "Told him to get his shit and get the fuck out. That I'm over it."

There's a deep silence that stretches out between them like the flooding Mississippi for a few long moments. Finally, Mike takes a breath in through his nose that's very reminiscent of a sniffle, and Chris is speaking again.

"Mike...What in the hell are you thinking?" Chris finally questions softly.

Mike waits a bit before he responds, as if he has to decide whether or not to tell Chris the truth. The blonde has to admit, it hurts a bit. When Mike does speak, his voice is small, scared even, and it makes Chris feel even worse.

"It's the only way they'll leave him alone."

Chris pauses. That's it?

"Mike, that is the most idiotic-" he tries to explain to the younger, but Mike doesn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"Chris, you don't understand! They know we..._were_," and _fuck_, that's painful to say, "together, and they're mad about it. I know it's part of the reason they took the title from me."

The blonde isn't really surprised, but that doesn't make it suck any less. He'd had a feeling something like that was going to happen. It's not as if Mike and Alex had ever really been private about their relations. Then again, it's not as if Chris hadn't warned the younger, either. But Mike was nothing if not stubborn, and resilient, and he really did love Alex, so he'd been determined to stick it out. Apparently, Chris thinks bitterly, everyone has a breaking point.

"I thought you were going to tough it out?" Chris gives it a shot anyway, even if it is futile.

Mike scoffs, chokes on a sad laugh. "That was before I knew how much ammunition they had to use."

"You're stronger than that though, Mike! So what if you lost the title? I lost the title plenty of times! They've thrown way worse than that at you before." the older tries almost desperately. The last thing he wants is to see Mike give up on something he really is so passionate about.

"It's not _about_ me, Chris. It's about him." Mike mutters. He lets out a pained sigh. "Always about him."

And suddenly, Chris gets it. Honestly, he's unsure why he hadn't seen it coming sooner, now that he truly thinks about it. The sound of Mike's voice makes him zero back in on his friend.

"It's been killing him. They keep making us fight, and I have to say the most vile things to him. It's disgusting. I mean, we both know it's not real, but he always looks so crushed. And the way they've been treating him in the ring? Every single week, he comes out just to get his ass kicked! Shit, I think he's taken more bumps in the last few months than I did my entire first year! And he'd always come back to the room so sore and tired..." Mike trails off, as if he's lifting off, drifting up into his own head.

And Chris _knows_, has been watching, but for some reason hadn't really been taking all of that into consideration. He should have been, he knows. If he had, he gets the sinking feeling they could have avoided some of this. He feels partially responsible, despite the knowledge that he's very much not.

"I'm really sorry, man. I should have done something." Chris says somberly.

"What could you have done? It's not like we hadn't been fighting them tooth and nail since the beginning anyway. I knew what was going to happen, and I just kept pushing. So, they pushed back." Mike replies. The jaded edge to his tone makes Chris ache for him. It's the sound he'd hoped he would never have to hear, the sound of truly being "broken in" by the company. "But, they pushed too far, and I had to put my foot down. I just, I, he...I can't let them keep hurting him. And if it means sacrificing my own happiness with him, then so be it, I guess that's what has to be done."

"Maybe this isn't the best course of action, though." the older explains slowly, almost as if he's speaking to a teenager. Sometimes, he kind of feels like he is. "Think about it rationally for a minute, Mike."

"You think I haven't? You think I just woke up one morning and decided to break up with Alex? Decided on a fucking, a fucking _whim_ or some shit to throw away the best thing that's ever happened to me? No, I've fucking _thought about it_." Mike practically hisses. Chris is taken aback. It's been a long time since he's seen this side of Mike. "Dammit, Chris, I will not let them break him."

Chris falls silent. He can't even argue with his friend. He knows exactly how that feels, remembers saying the same thing about the young man he's speaking to, even if Mike will never know about that. Still, he hates that it's come to this, that Mike is having to rip apart a wonderful relationship over this kind of prejudice. He hears Mike sigh again, and his mind is instantly made up.

"Well, I'm flying out there." he says in his sternest voice. Of course, Mike's the only one that would argue with it.

"What? No, Chris, you can't." the younger objects hurriedly.

"Why can't I? You're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, and you need your best friend. And, since you just dumped him, I'm the next best thing." Chris returns matter-of-factly.

"Chris, seriously, I'll be okay. You really don't need to fly all the way out here." Chris smiles at the way Mike's arguments are growing weaker.

"No, you won't. I know you, Mike. You're going to do something stupid, and I'm going to have to fly out to handle it anyway. Right now, I'm just going to cut out the middle part, and go ahead and come handle things now." the blonde says as if it's set in stone.

Mike scoffs, rolls his eyes. "Really? _Really_? I don't need a babysitter."

"Says you. You're one emotional breakdown away from the front page of Perez Hilton's asinine site." Chris fires back. "Now, shut up, and go to your match. I'll be there later on."

Chris hangs up before Mike has a chance to say anything else. Not that he really has words right now anyway. He tilts his head back against the wall with what almost sounds like a whine.

How in the hell had he managed to forget about the match?

**XXXXX**

"You guys, I really don't think I can do this."

Alex's voice is shaky, and it makes Justin frown. The younger is pacing back and forth in front of the bench the high flyer is sat upon, wringing his hands worriedly ever few seconds like a nervous tick.

"Oh, come on. Nut up, man. It's just Mike." Heath responds, almost snickering, like the former champ is a joke.

The redhead pulls his clean shirt over his head, leaning down and zipping his bag up before moving over to sit next to Justin on the bench. The South African is glaring at him, and he stares back, shrugging a bit, _what_? He notices Alex has stopped in front of them, and is looking at them both with a downright crushed expression. Heath kind of feels like a dick, ducking his own head down. Justin stands, taking Alex's upper arms into his hands firmly (he has to actually make an effort to ignore the way the boy's nerves are making the muscles flex under his hands), stares him straight in the eyes (he also has to make a point to not fall too deep in the baby blues right now).

"Alex, you're going to be fine. It's just a match, even if you do have to work with him. You're the new Alex Riley, remember? And the new Alex Riley can work just fine with his ex, and put on the best performance of his life." Justin says, his voice low. His face colors lightly at the small smile Alex manages.

"Okay. Alright. You're right, new Alex Riley." the younger mutters with a nod.

"And I'll be right here when you finish, no matter what." Justin tells him, just loud enough for him to really hear it.

The smile widens a bit.

"Thank you, Justin. You have no idea how much this means to me." Alex repeats for possibly the tenth time in the last few nights.

Justin just laughs. "It's fine! Now, go out there and kick some ass."

Alex stands up a bit taller, gives the high flyer a final nod, before turning and heading out the door. The second it's shut, Justin's facing Heath once more, glare set in place again.

"What?" Heath asks as if he really doesn't understand why Justin's so angry.

"That was really rude. Mike broke his heart, and now he has to go out there and act like everything's normal." Justin crosses his arms over his chest. "How would _you_ feel?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be acting like such a pussy." Heath counters.

"I'm not so sure about that." the older mutters under his breath, turning and rifling through his bag. It's just loud enough that the redhead hears it, however.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demands, standing and striding over to his friend. Justin stands up to face him.

"It means you've been acting like such a bitch lately, I was wondering when you were going to get off your period and go back to being my best friend." Justin says with a glare. Heath is shocked. It's been a long time since Justin snapped at him like that. "Whatever your problem is, you need to check yourself. I'm starting to dislike being around you."

With that, Justin turns and storms out of the dressing room, leaving Heath alone with his thoughts. The redhead is unsure why all of them revolve around grabbing Justin's angry face and kissing the snarl right off him.


	4. In Between

**Chapter:** 4: In Between

**Author's Note:** Ahhhhh! The more of this I get finished writing and the more reviews I get, the more antsy/excited I get about posting the next chapter! Haha. Way to continually make me grin, guys. =) This one's for you. Enjoy. =)

It's the single worst match of Alex's entire _life_. You couldn't tell by looking at him, though, the way he and Mike work together fluidly, effortlessly, like they're on the same wavelength.

_Though I guess that's to be expected when you're fucking soul mates._ Alex thinks bitterly.

Inside, he's screaming. His fingers itch to grab Mike. His skin burns when they touch. Part of him wants to turn, run back to the dressing room, back to Justin's room in fucking Tampa and never look at Mike again. The other part wants to fall to his knees right here, beg the older to take him back, let him make up for whatever it was he did to upset him. He feels fucking pathetic. It's seems as if Mike has not gone unaffected, though. Once he really gets started, it's like he can't control himself. He strikes Cena with a vengeance, a certain darkness on his face Alex hasn't seen before. It frightens him, almost more than the deadly tone Mike has taken on tonight. Alex can hear the sheer rage in it, bubbling just below the surface. At certain points, it feels to the younger that Mike is taking out some kind of deep-seated anger on John. It makes Alex feel guilty for even being involved. Whatever issue Mike has, it's not with John Cena, but he has become the unfortunate victim. Alex sends him pitying glances whenever he can, hoping he conveys the message appropriately.

Suddenly, Mike's got the belt in his hand, and all of Alex's thought processes shut down. His eyes dart between his ex and the weapon, his mouth unknowingly dropping open the slightest bit in sheer want. It's not until he hears the leather crack against John's already marred skin that he's brought back to reality. He utters a quiet apology to Cena, and John gives him the slightest of nods. Alex knows he's delirious, but it's not like there's anything he can do. He hears the belt come down again, and closes his eyes against the sound.

But then, it's time. Alex pulls out the faux phone, plays the recording, and jumps back, excitement that's not even his dripping from him. He tries his damndest to touch Mike as little as possible, but when the older turns to him with that _look_, he can't stop himself. He almost tackles Mike, hugging him as close as possible. Once his hands are on his ex, it seems he can't _stop_ touching him, even goes so far as to _almost kiss him_ on _national television_, until Mike is pulling away, motioning for the ref to get the belt. Alex jumps around the ring like a wild man, trying to make it seem like his face it wet from excitement, and not the gut-wrenching pain that's coursing through him. When Mike hugs him again, tighter this time, and holding on, Alex has to block out everything to keep from grabbing the older and kissing him senseless, right here in front of everyone. He's not sure what either of them say to each other, but he's sure it's something superficial and idiotic and just _not right_. He pulls away first, unable to take the feeling of it any longer, unable to handle Mike being _this close_ and _not his_. He hates that he imagines hurt on Mike's face as well.

Once Cena gives him the AA, he couldn't be more relieved all he has to do for the remainder of the match is lie there. He has to regain his composure before he can stand, which proves to be easier than he thought. By the time he gets backstage, he even has himself convinced that his face is wet from sweat, not tears.

"Hey, there you are. I told you you'd be alright. You did great!" Justin's voice floats in from behind him.

Alex turns to face the grinning high flyer, whose expression falls the moment he sets eyes on Alex's own face.

"Alex?" Justin questions, taking a few steps forward. "Are you okay?"

Alex knows he catches Justin off guard when he grabs the smaller, pulls him in close, but right now, he doesn't really fucking care. The promise of safety and a shoulder to cry on brings forth the rollercoaster of emotions he's felt over the course of the last hour again, all at once this time. He feels himself breaking down, right here in the back hallway of some arena, where anyone, Mike included, could walk up and just _see_ him here. For some reason, he doesn't really fucking care about that, either, especially as Justin's arms come to wrap around him, the older's soft accent right in his ear with meaningless encouragements that make him feel better nontheless. For reasons unbeknownst to himself even, he's getting the feeling that as long as the high flyer is around, he might actually be able to make it through this.

**XXXXX**

Mike takes his time changing after the match, standing under the hot spray of the arena shower until his legs feel like they're going to give out under him. He's physically and emotionally drained. He's never had a match that intense. It was as if he'd seen Alex and become a different person. He figures, maybe he had. The longer the match had gone on, the more Mike had realized that all he could think about, all he could focus on, was the way the match would end, how he knew he wouldn't be getting back his oh-so-precious title that had been unfairly stripped from him, and that in the end, he wouldn't even have Alex there to comfort him. All because everyone wanted him to be like Super Cena. He'd become a man on fire, out for blood, and he didn't care whose. He's sure it would have terrified the old Mike, this complete loss of control on someone he honestly had no real personal problem with, someone he even called a friend. New Mike, _ex _-champion Mike, _single_ Mike, is somehow unphazed.

The sadness, though. That gets him. Being around Morrison after their unceremonious split had never hurt this much. Then again, he'd never loved anyone the way he'd loved Alex Riley. Still loves Alex Riley, because if he's completely honest with himself, he knows he's never truly going to be over the younger. He lets out a bitter sigh, walking to the car with his head down. The entire drive back to the hotel, Mike has to make an actual effort to not have a panic attack. He's plagued by the look in Alex's eyes, the feel of the younger's hands on him one more time. By the time he gets back to the room, he's shaking, barely able to park the car correctly. He leaves his bags in the trunk, dragging his feet the entire way to his doorstep. He's not sure if he's ever been more ready to just pass the fuck out. When he opens the door, however, his mind changes.

"Hey there. What's shaking?" Chris jokes from where he sits in the oversized chair by the bed, smile spread across his face.

Mike feels his bottom lip quiver. The relief of seeing his friend overwhelms him. As his walls break down like levees, the tears begin to spill forth. He hits his knees, hugging himself tightly as his breathing hitches time and time again. He starts seeing spots before Chris is by his side, rubbing his back. He turns and grabs his friend, holding on for dear life as, for the first time since this whole, crazy, fucked up thing got started, he completely crumbles, and allows himself to cry.

**XXXXX**

Since Heath and Justin still aren't exactly speaking, the redhead goes on ahead to the next town with Wade while Justin opts to stay behind with Alex. They lay curled up together on the bed for hours, Justin listening to Alex spill his soul until the younger's voice runs hoarse from the talking and the tears. Eventually, Alex falls asleep almost mid-sentence, his head resting comfortably on Justin's chest. The high flyer lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He'd been worried since Alex had broken down at the arena that the younger wouldn't ever get to sleep, and knowing the scene that would be coming up the next night, Alex was going to need it. He looks down at Alex's dozing form, his hand never stilling on Alex's back.

Justin ponders the situation at hand, the fact that Alex is even here right now, unconscious in his bed, _on his chest_. It's perplexing, to say the least, the way Alex had gone from being someone Justin readily identified as one of his best friends, to barely speaking despite being on the same label, to lying here, curled around him, like nothing had happened. Not that Justin minds; he's beyond happy to have the younger back in his life. It's just caught him off-guard, thrown him out of his element to suddenly be someone's lifeline as they drift helplessly out to sea. He doesn't regret it, though. He meant what he'd said. Despite their lack of communication lately, he and Alex are still friends, and he'll do whatever he can to make sure the other is alright.

Suddenly, Alex shifts, subconsciously pulling Justin closer, his fingers squeezing the slightest bit into Justin's side. Justin squirms, ignoring the heat that spreads to his face and groin simultaneously. He runs the hand that's not rubbing Alex's back through his hair, stifling a groan. He wishes he could just turn that part of his brain off right now. The last thing Alex needs right now is Justin getting a hard-on every time he takes his shirt off. The high flyer shakes his head, trying to clear his head. He lets out a frustrated breath, trying to think about anything but Alex.

His mind drifts to Heath, and their argument from earlier. He hadn't meant to be so callous about things, but dammit, if Heath doesn't figure out he's jealous soon, the South African is going to kill him. Justin had spent the better part of the last year and a half biting his tongue and biding his time, trying to let his friend figure out his sexuality on his own, but the longer time goes on, the more Justin's beginning to realize just how oblivious the redhead really is. It's clear as glass to everyone that Heath is fixated on Justin, completely head over heels. That is, to everyone but Heath, who is still somehow convinced that he only swings one way. Thing is, if Heath would just understand his own feelings, Justin would be more than happy to reciprocate. But, as it is, things just keep getting more and more ridiculous. Still, the last thing he wants right now is for Heath to not be speaking to him. He reaches over and grabs his phone off the nightstand, unlocking it and shooting his friend a text.

_**Hey. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. You still up?**_

It's a few long moments, but then Justin's phone is buzzing in his hand.

_Its ok. Was kind of being a bitch._

_**Happens to the best of us. You just need to chill. You're still my best friend.**_

_U sure? U and Alex r getting awfully close. _

Justin sighs, but his eyes trail down to his sleeping companion who continues to cling to him. Heath has no idea.

_**Of course I'm sure. I could never replace you.**_

_Got that right. I'm one of a kind. ;)_

_**You are definitely that. I should probably be getting back to sleep. Just wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me. **_

_Like I could ever stay mad u. I'll try 2 b nicer 2 Alex. _

A smile forms on Justin's face. At least Heath's trying.

_**Thank you. That's all I ask. Good night, Heath. =) **_

_Night Angel. Sweet dreams._

_Only of you_, he thinks as he sets the phone back on the night stand. He snuggles down deeper into the covers, trying to get as comfortable as he can. Just as he's about to nod off, Alex slides up a bit more to rest his head in the crook of Justin's neck, his arms winding around the high flyer that much more. Suddenly, there's lips lightly on his neck before Alex is nuzzling him softly. Justin takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Alex settles, his breath hot on Justin's collarbone.

_Or maybe that was a lie..._he thinks, slipping into sleep.


	5. Words I Never Said

**Chapter:** 5: Words I Never Said

**Author's Note:** I was going to update this early, but when I got to where I was staying on the trip I took, I discovered we had no internet! =O! Turns out, this was a really good thing. For the longest time, I've felt like this story was missing a crucial scene. A few days into my trip, I had this dream. Everything seemed to fall into place. Now, the scene opens this chapter. I hope you enjoy. =)

_Alex lets out a loud groan, walking into the hotel room and dropping his bags. Mike instantly looks up from his spot on his stomach on the bed, worry filling his eyes. Alex walks over to the bed, leaning down and dropping a kiss on the top of Mike's head before collapsing on his own stomach next to his lover, face down. He feels a hand trailing slowly up and down his back, and he closes his eyes, letting the sensation take over. When Mike bears down a little harder on his hand, Alex knows he lets out a moan of pleasure. He hears Mike chuckle over him before hot breath is dancing across his ear, "Get naked. Let me massage you."_

_He nods his head and sits up, obeying the older by taking off his shirt. Alex almost feels bad even accepting the treat. He knows his lover wants to have sex, since the sheer pain from practice and the ring have been keeping Alex pretty well out of comission. He can't help it. The way Creative has made him almost as big of a punching bag as Slater (and certainly more of a bitch) has had him constantly exhausted and in pain. He simply hasn't had it in him. The second the warming baby oil Mike keeps with him hits his back, followed by his lover's hands, he knows it's game over tonight, as well. But by then, it's definitely too late for him to stop the older, he figures, so instead, he relaxes into it. _

_By the time Mike reaches his legs, replacing his hands with his lips every so often, Alex would give anything to have the energy to get up right now and fuck Mike through the mattress. It doesn't come, however, try as he might, and he rolls over, pulling his slighter lover down on top of him. He kisses Mike long and slow, winding a hand into his hair before separating, but still clinging softly to the locks. He lets out a ligh sigh._

_"I can't fuck you tonight. I'm sorry." Alex whispers, feeling like an ass even as he says it. "I-I'm just...I'm fucking exhausted. All the time. And I'm just so fucking, fucking _sick of it_. I'm really, really sorry, baby."_

_But Mike's smile never wavers. He simply nods in agreement before kissing Alex again. When they part, he has a certain look in his eyes that Alex can't really identify. Then, Mike's voice is hot on his skin again, right by his ear as his low voice mutters, "Then let me make love to _you_."_

_And Alex can't even help but nod, moving the hand out of the older's hair and onto the back of his neck as he drags him down into another kiss. He feels complete for the first time in what feels like forever when Mike enters him, and he almost cries in relief. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end of someone's affections, especially someone who actually cares about him. It's incredible. He moans and whimpers and cries out at certain points, totally in love with the feel of Mike on him, in him. He loves being this close to his lover. Suddenly, Mike's slowing down, a look of concern flashing across his face. _

_"Baby, what is it? Why are you crying?" the older asks worriedly, swiping a thumb under Alex's cheek. _

_He reaches up, feels the tears under his eyes for himself,_

and wakes up, his fingers wet. He's not even sure what made him cry. He chalks it up to the feeling of being so close to Mike again, even if it was just a dream. He sits up, looking around a bit to try and get a better handle on his surroundings. It takes a moment, but it finally sinks in that while it is still dark, and he is still in a hotel room, Mike Mizanin is most certainly not here. Justin Angel, however, is, arms wrapped around his waist tight. Alex looks down, wiping away the remainder of his tears as a smile crosses his face. _At least Justin hasn't left me_, he thinks.

Suddenly, Justin shifts in the bed, groaning and nuzzling down almost into Alex's lap. The younger's eyes grow wide, his face growing hot. The last thing he needs right now is Justin waking up and figuring out what kind of dream he was having. He dodges the situation as best he can, sliding back down to lie on his back under the covers. Instantly, the high flyer's arms wrap around him, pulling him in close. Alex grins despite himself, grateful for his friend's affections. He turns to face the older, snuggling down deeper into his embrace. As he drifts back off, the only thine he can really think is, _Man, Justin really looks beautiful when he sleeps._

**XXXXX**

Mike is secretly glad Chris decided to ride with him to Raw when they pull up to the arena just in time to see Justin Gabriel climbing out of the passenger seat of a rental car belonging to one Alex Riley. He tightens his grip on the wheel, locks his jaw and grits his teeth at his ex's smile. The same smile that falls from his face the moment the younger's eyes meet Mike's. Immediately, he sees Alex's eyes fill with hurt he can't mask, and Mike feels like such a douchebag as he forces himself to glare when he passes. He watches in his side mirror as Alex looks away. His glare becomes real as Justin moves closer to the taller man's side.

"Stop gawking and park the damn car." Chris snaps from the passenger seat, ripping Mike back to the task at hand. He mutters under his breath, "_Knew_ I should have been the one to drive."

The younger just rolls his eyes, parking the car swiftly. This is certainly going to be a long night, he thinks.

**III**

"Oh yea? Justin rode with him to Raw?"

It's not exactly the response Mike had been hoping for from his friend. He'd been calling John to try and get the sympathy Chris was certainly not giving him. John, apparently, is cutting him no slack, either.

"No, to the fucking moon. Of course, to Raw." Mike snaps. He can't help it; he's irritated.

"Well, you _did_ dump him, Mike." John tries to reason with him.

"But it's only been two weeks!" Mike objects. He knows neither of his friends miss the hurt in his voice.

"And he needs a friend, too." John returns. Mike falls silent. He hadn't really thought about that. "You forget, all he's hung out with all this time are your friends."

Mike opens his mouth to argue once more, but can't find the words. John has a point. Thinking back, he can hardly remember a single moment since he walked into the training room at the FCW school that didn't have Alex in it. He'd kind of become the younger's entire world. Unfortunately, by the same token, he'd also apparently destroyed it. Chris notices Mike's silence, however, smirking over at him from where he sits propped in a chair in the corner, feet sat on the table in front of him as he leans back.

"I told you you're an idiot. What'd he say?" Chris inquires, and Mike glares over at him.

"Is that Chris?" John says before Mike has a chance to respond. Then, he's singing, "Hi, Chris!"

"I am not an idiot!" the younger grumbles, looking up as Chris makes his way over to stand above him. He follows it up begrudgingly with, "John says hi."

Before Mike gets the opportunity to say anything further, there's a knock on the door and someone's calling for him to get ready to go out to the ring. His heart drops down to his feet, and an actual whimper makes its way past his lips. He tries desperately to swallow the wave of nausea that's attempting to rise to the surface. Chris's expression does turn sympathetic now, taking the phone from Mike carefully and pulling the younger into his arms.

"You'll be fine. And when you're done, I'm right here. Then we can get the fuck out of here and go relax somewhere, take your mind off it. Okay?" he whispers. Mike manages a nod before shuffling out the door. Once it's shut behind his sulking figure, Chris puts the phone back to his ear, letting out a light sigh.

"He's gonna do something stupid, isn't he?" John asks worriedly.

"Probably." Chris agrees, a sad lilt to his voice. "That's why I'm already here, though. Hopefully it won't be _too_ bad."

"He's being an idiot." John says, a sad smile for his friend on his face that Chris can almost see through the phone.

"It's Mike. Of course he's being an idiot. But it's not like I can convince him of that. He's so damned stubborn." Chris grinds out, dropping down into the chair Mike had just vacated.

"Yea. Just...take care of him, alright? This shit's killing him." John finally mutters.

Chris exhales slowly. "I'll sure as hell try."

**III**

Mike has never hated being able to read Alex until right now. He wonders if the younger can read him the same. He truly hopes not, because he knows that if Alex can, then he's screwed. Every word he's not saying burns his lips like cyanide. He hates watching the way the ones he does say sting Alex as well.

"There is only one reason I didn't win the WWE Championship last night, and that reason is you, Alex Riley." _Because if I didn't love you so damned much, they wouldn't have taken it from me. But it was worth it..._

Having to look at his ex hurts too much, and when Alex swipes his hands over his face slowly, as if he's trying to remain calm, Mike has to turn away. He spews lies about the younger and what a screw-up he is, and he can _feel_ Alex start pacing beside him, the boy's glare digging into his _skin_. Once Josh reads him the cue, that he's done with Cena, he forces himself to get back into character. He knows what he has to do, what he has to _say_.

_This is what you wanted_, he reminds himself. _This is exactly why you did the damn thing, for this moment right here. You've done it, Mike. Congratulations. Now play your part._

He takes a deep breath, turns slowly, and unleashes on Alex.

"This is all your fault. If it wasn't for you, I would be WWE Champion right now, you worthless waste of space." _It's so empty without you in it._

He knows that if Alex is really paying attention (hell, if _anyone_ is), his eyes betray him. Apparently, however, Alex hears his words more than he hears what's behind them. He supposes it's good for the storyline, really sells it, but nevertheless, it makes his eyes glaze with tears to see Alex's own turn from sadness to anger. There's still a level of hurt to them, however, and he knows Alex can tell he's about to cry right here on national television.

And then, "Miz. It wasn't like I was the one who said I Quit."

It's like he's been slapped in the face. He almost recoils at the statement; it hits too close to home. Alex is right. It's his own fault. He didn't have to do it. But, he had, and now here he stands, his goal accomplished, and he can't even be happy about it. He does, however, have to finish the job. He turns slowly to Alex, demands him to repeat himself. He shoves the boy away from him, desperate to try and just get the younger out of his space. Alex is not to be deterred, though, reaching for him. His fingers burn, even through the suit. Mike has to walk away.

He paces the ring, screaming about the younger being nothing more than a coattail rider, worthless without him. He tells Alex angrily about the blown chances, how much of a disappointment he is. When he meets Alex's eyes, finally, he's almost shocked by the boy's expression. He looks like he's waiting for the right moment to say something, like the truth is finally coming out before him, the explanation he'e been waiting to hear from Mike spilling from his lips. Mike hates that it's come to this, that Alex really feels like Mike would dump him, has dumped him, over these lies. But for some reason, he can't shut up.

"I am sick of your mind-numbing stupidity!" _I miss your laugh._

Alex looks positively heartbroken and angry, all at once, like he's holding back tears, though he's unsure of which emotion they're from.

"I am sick of your face!" _I miss waking up to your face._

Alex clenches his jaw, looks like he's trying not to speak.

"I am sick of you, period!" _I want you back._

Alex's face just keeps falling.

"I am done with you!" _I love you._

Alex almost flinches. It's as if Mike's kicking him out all over again.

"You are fired!" _Please don't hate me._

Alex looks totally crushed, his face a mirror of the night Mike dumped him. Mike feels like he's been kicked, guilt filling his gut. He can't take it.

"Don't you look at me like that. Get out of my face!"

He shoves his ex-lover away, hard. Mike's really not expecting Alex to take it as his cue when the younger swings.


	6. Listen To Your Heart

**Chapter 6:** Listen To Your Heart

**Author's Note:** So after I began writing this, candy-belle also posted a story dealing with the same split. I was totally excited, because I love reading other people's work, especially this author in particular, so of course I started reading. The issue is, I realized partway in, we have a scene that appears very similar. I worried for a moment that people might think I stole the idea, or vice versa. Clearing it up: While I had written my scene before I read the one in question, mine hadn't been posted anywhere so mine couldn't have possibly been plagarized either. I think it's just a case of great minds thinking alike. That being said, I'd also like to remind everyone what I've told numerous reviewers so far: nothing is ever as it seems. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And make sure to check out A Rose By Any Other Name by candy-belle. I've been enjoying it as well. =)

Alex can't help it, something in him has snapped. To his credit, however, none of his punches connect. He tries to ignore the fact that it's because he's trying to hold back tears, and he knows that if he lets loose, really hits Mike, he won't be able to keep them at bay any longer. Once they're out of the ring, though, he can't stop himself, landing a few strikes against the back of Mike's head. He hears Mike make a few noises of pain, and he yanks the older back up, ripping his shirt in the process. He barely registers what he's saying even as he speaks.

"After all I did for you? After all I..."

He trails off, can't finish the sentence out loud. Instead, he drags Mike to the announce table, slides him over it and into the wall. The way his ex-lover slumps against the floor, he knows he's dazed him. He wastes no time, snatching Mike back up and getting right in his face.

"After all I did for you, you didn't even..." _Didn't even tell me why. Couldn't even say it to my face. You son of a bitch._

He throws the older onto the announce table again, then scoops him back up and rolls them both back into the ring. He swings with a purpose this time, connecting solidly with Mike's face and then grabs him, slings him into the corner. A few fake hits later and he can't take it anymore, stepping away with a yell of frustration. He's never felt like this before, this awkward mixture of emotions that boils in his stomach and makes him simultaneously feel like throwing up, crying, and kicking Mike's ass, all at the same time. He still feels cheated, like he's been shortchanged in this whole breakup. Mike hasn't given him a straight answer once. He had put up with so much ridiculous bullshit, thrown away everything for Mike, and the older couldn't even be honest with him.

"Everything I did! Everything! For you!" _All the beatings I took, all the bumps I felt, all the sleepless nights in pain, all the ridicule I suffered, all of it._

He throws Mike hard onto the mat, watches him bounce with an almost sick satisfaction. The older pushing himself up, and Alex almost thinks he sees tears in Mike's eyes, sobs trying to break forth. _Good_, he thinks, _hurt_. Alex swipes his hands over his face slowly, tries desperately to catch his breath as he's reminded they're taping, in front of an audience. He stalks back over, leaning down into Mike's space.

"Go to hell." he spits through gritted teeth.

Alex turns and storms over to the corner of the ring. He remembers he's supposed to end it some fancy way, so he rushes Mike, connecting a foot to the older's face lightly for good measure. Mike flips over onto his back. Alex doesn't stick around, can't. He storms up the ramp as fast as he can without seeming too upset, fighting his sadness the whole way. A storm brews behind his eyes. The second he's behind the curtain, Justin's beside him, saying his name and reaching for him. He suddenly feels like he can't breathe, shrugging his friend off.

"Not right now." he says, making his way down the hall to the locker room.

The second he's in the room, he's collapsing on the couch, face down. He buries his face in his arms, takes a few long, shaky breaths. It's not supposed to hurt this bad, he thinks. He thought he was past this, a brand new Alex Riley. He feels like he's back-pedaling. He hears the door open and Justin slip inside, walking over and dropping into a chair near the couch. Alex keeps breathing steadily, trying not to think about anything good Mike has ever done for him. Instead, he focuses on the way Mike had spoken to him in the ring, the way it felt as if the older was airing their dirty laundry for the world to see. It had felt like their breakup all over again, only this time, it was on camera, and Alex had to admit, he'd lost it a bit. But he couldn't help it! Once he'd started, he was completely unable to stop himself. He's honestly glad he's managed to keep from crying. He's so sick of feeling weak.

He sniffs a bit, finally calm, and sits up. Justin's sitting backwards in a chair, chin rested on folded arms. He shoots the high flyer a watery smile. Justin returns it, sitting up straight once again.

"You okay?" the South African asks quietly.

"I'm sure I will be. I mean, we've made it through the worst, right?" Alex replies almost hopefully.

"That's the spirit!" Justin exclaims happily.

Alex lets out an actual laugh. "That was...so gay, man."

"Says the guy who just beat up his ex-boyfriend in a wrestling ring." Justin fires back without thinking. His eyes grow wide instantly, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"No, no you're right. I have absolutely no room to talk." the younger says slowly, smile still intact. Even when Justin examines it closely, it appears real. He relaxes a bit.

There's silence for a few long moments before finally, Justin snickers.

"I can't believe you busted his lip open." he nearly giggles.

Alex closes his eyes, covering his face with his hands. He groans despite the slight smile on his face.

"I can't believe I busted his lip open." he repeats, removing his hands slowly. "I didn't even mean to! I just...I mean, I hate to say it, but it kind of felt good to hit him at least once. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No. Everyone wants to pummel their ex every once in a while. You just got the opportunity to." Justin reassures him with a kind smile.

Alex sighs quietly, leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Yea, but...I mean, maybe I was imagining it, but...He kind of looked...I dunno, upset." the younger says, an almost guilty tone to his voice.

Justin frowns.

"Alex...Don't forget, he's the one who dumped you. He kicked you out. It's not like he didn't have ample time to apologize. Don't feel bad about it." the high flyer tells him. "Who knows, maybe you knocked some sense into him and he'll come beg you back."

The younger breathes a laugh.

"You have got the most incredible faith in this situation, don't you?" he asks, turning his smile back on Justin.

"I've got faith in you." Justin replies softly, then turns away as if he didn't mean to say anything at all.

There's a near awkward silence between them for a few beats. Justin's unsure where the sentence had even come from. He can't even begin to count the reasons it's a really fucking bad idea to be getting feelings for Alex Riley. At the very least, he's beginning to think that at least Alex would return his advances. _Unlike Heath_, he thinks bitterly. He can't help it; he misses the redhead. But it's not as if Justin can forcibly remove the younger's head from his ass. Heath's got to do it himself. Alex suddenly coughs, ripping Justin from his musings.

"So, I dunno about you, but I need a drink, and there is a club around the corner that is calling my name." the younger suggests with a wide grin, standing and clapping his hands, rubbing them together.

"Uh, I, ah, I really don't drink." Justin starts to object.

Apparently, however, Alex's puppy face is incredible, because the next thing Justin knows, he's leaning against the bar in a low-lit club, bottled water firmly in hand as the lights flash and the bass pumps through him. He has to admit, at least the music is good. It sends vibrations up and down his spine that have him moving to the beat every so often. He reminds himself sternly that he only came to watch Alex, make sure nothing bad happens to him. He's glad he did, the way the younger has been slamming back drinks since they arrived.

Speaking of Alex, Justin thinks, scanning the floor. He lets his gaze sweep over the mass of writhing bodies until they finally fall on his companion, wide smile on his face and hands on a tiny brunette girl's hips who is grinding against him as if she's trying to fuck him on the dance floor. Alex's head snaps up as if he feels Justin's stare, his eyes locking with the older's through the crowd. His smile gets impossibly wider and Justin watches as he leans down and says something to the girl before turning and making his way slowly back to the bar. He slides up beside Justin, slinging an arm around the smaller man so hard he almost knocks him down.

"Whoo! I am having a blast!" Alex exclaims, tugging Justin close. "Thank you sooo much for coming with me! Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

"Really, I'm fine. I'm glad you're having a good time though!" Justin manages to respond. His thought processes are all shorting out with Alex this close. The high flyer can feel the light layer of sweat that's made its way across the younger's skin. Justin's shocked that the smell of it turns him on a little. Suddenly, Alex's lips are right against his ear. Justin closes his eyes, repeating to himself, _he'sdrunkhe'sdrunkhe'sdrunk. _

"I'd be having more fun if you'd dance with me, though. I promise I don't bite." Alex practically purrs, pressing closer to Justin as he speaks. "That is, unless you're into that kind of thing."

The high flyer swallows thickly, barely supressing the shiver that itches to run up his spine.

"I-I-I d-don't," and Justin has to pause and swallow again, cursing the way his voice cracks, "I don't really dance."

He tries to retract himself from Alex's grip, but the younger's flirtatious expression almost paralyzes him. He takes a deep breath.

"About that drink though..." he says. It's becoming rather apparent that he's going to need it.

**XXXXX**

"Oww! Fuck!" Mike exclaims, trying to pull away from Chris and his evil alcohol swab of doom. He glares at his friend. "That fucking stings."

"Well you have to let me clean it out. You can't let it get infected. I mean, whatever would you do without your cute little pout?" the older jokes, smirking at his friend.

Mike sighs begrudgindly, but sticks his lip out once again. He cringes, but doesn't pull away this time as Chris disinfects his wound. When Chris pulls back to examine his handiwork, he lets his eyes trail down the front of the younger's body as well. He tries not to flinch, but Mike catches it anyway. He shoots his friend a sad smile.

"He really did a number on you, huh?" Chris questions softly.

The younger's eyes dart away. Chris instantly feels bad.

"Mike-" he tries, but the other cuts him off.

"No, I deserved it. He was so _hurt_, man. I feel like I've been lying to him." Mike mutters, still not looking at his friend.

"Uh, you kind of have." Chris replies, trying to ignore the glare Mike shoots his way.

The younger has been feeding his ex half-truths and white lies the whole time. At least, when he hasn't been ignoring Alex entirely. Chris just wishes he understood that avoidance is not the way to handle this. The older sighs.

"Look, how about we go out tonight, just me and you? Have a few drinks, maybe dance a bit. Take your mind off things for a little while. There's even a club right around the corner." he offers, a last ditch attempt to help Mike feel better. At least if Mike got too fucked up, he'd be there. This was a good idea, he was sure of it.

_He can't do anything too stupid if I'm there,_ Chris thinks as Mike agrees half-heartedly, _right_?


	7. We R Who We R

**Chapter:** 7: We R Who We R

**Author's Note:** So, I don't even care that this is my shortest chapter, I'm pretty sure it's my favorite. It certainly helped that I'm actually used to hearing the song mentioned IN the club, with the low lights and the low bass and everything, so it set the mood perfectly. Even reading back through listening to the track while I read, I felt like it turned out great. Hope you enjoy. =D

Evidentially, Chris has drastically underestimated the effect of this particular breakup on his young friend. Mike had gone from faking happiness prancing around the dance floor, accepting drinks from everyone who offered them, to where he is now, slumped over a table nursing his newest mixed drink. Chris doesn't think he's ever seen Mike quite so sad, even when he and Morrison broke up. He's not sure how, but Alex Riley has apparently managed to worm his way through every single one of Mike's defenses and secure himself a place in the young man's heart.

"I, I just, I don't know if I did the right thing, Chris. I love him _so much_, yknow?" Mike almost whines.

It's probably the fifth time he's said something of the same nature in the last half hour. It seems the more inebriated he gets, the more upset he gets. Chris has been trying to cut him off for the same amount of time. He's terrible at sad Mike. He never knows what to say. Mike lets out a low whimper and takes another swig of his drink. Chris's eyes widen a bit and he takes it from his hand, setting it just out of arm's reach on the table.

"Hey, come on, now. Don't be so down! Your plan worked, didn't it? He's getting a push. A face push at that!" Chris says excitedly.

Mike slumps forward, resting his chin on arms on the table in front of them. Chris rattles his brain for something, anything else he can say. He reaches out, resting a hand on Mike's shoulder carefully.

"What's that saying? If you love something, let it go, if it comes back to you, it's yours to keep? Something like that? Well, you let him go. And you've seen it yourself, he really, _really_ loves you. Surely he'll come back. And, and on the off chance he doesn't, I'll be here for you. I've always been here for you before, right?" the older rushes out, a desperate attempt.

The younger's face suddenly changes, as if he's realized something, as if some of the pieces of the puzzle that he's been missing all this time have suddenly fallen into place. He sits up a bit, tipsy smile blossoming on his face like a spring morning. Chris smiles back excitedly. _Thank God_, he thinks.

"You're right, Chris. You are...absolutely right." Mike agrees with his friend.

"See? You'll be fine." the older returns as Mike straightens his back.

"Who cares if he comes back, right?" Mike says, scooting forward a bit.

"Wait, what?"

"You're totally right. You _have _always been there for me. And you're here right now! Thank you, Chris."

Chris doesn't even get a chance to respond before the younger is leaning in, capturing his lips in a sweet, tender kiss. For the briefest of moments, Chris indulges himself the way he's always wanted to, opening his mouth and giving the younger a chance to explore. He takes over for a breath, swiping his tongue through Mike's mouth, feeling his friend moan just a bit. Then, he's pulling back, bittersweet smile on his face as he meets Mike's eyes.

"Mike, baby? Y'know that thing I keep telling you?" Chris asks tenderly.

"That I'm an idiot?" Mike verifies. At his companion's nod, he sighs. "I'm doing it again, huh?"

"Just a bit." the older informs him. "Look, Mike...it's not that I don't love you. I love you to death, really, I do. You're one of my best friends. But seriously? You love Alex. You love Alex Riley more than you have loved anyone else, ever, in your life. I can see it on your face. I can hear it in your voice. Face it, you're fucking soulmates!"

The smaller scoffs. "Yea, well, a lot of good that does me now."

"Don't say that. He loves you, too. Right now, you're both being stupid. He'll come around." Chris tries again to reassure his friend.

"Whatever you say." Mike murmurs. He lets out a slow breath of air. "Hey Chris? Let's go back to the hotel."

The older nods, helping his friend stand and walk to the car. Halfway to the hotel, Mike passes out, his head on the window, a wet sheen on his cheeks. Chris carries him inside and puts him to bed, stripping down and passing out in the other bed. As he falls asleep to the sound of Mike's hitched breaths, he can only hope that he's right.

**XXXXX**

Of all the things in the entire world for Alex to see on the way back from the bathroom, _of course_ it would be Mike lip-locked with Chris fucking Jericho. Alex pales instantly, nausea rising in the back of his throat. He can't believe it. It had really only taken two weeks to get over him? After all this time, he'd thought certainly he'd meant more to Mike than that. _Evidentially not_, he thinks, drinking in through alcohol-hazed eyes the soft smile on Mike's face as they separate. He turns away quickly, bee-lining back to the bar and back to Justin. He can't stand what an idiot he was. This was such a stupid idea, coming out here tonight. As if to add insult to injury, We R Who We R begins blaring across the club. Alex chokes out a bitter laugh. Great, because this was exactly what he needed. He's never wanted to leave a place so badly in his life.

"Justin, can we go?" he asks his friend softly, barely heard over the music.

Justin spins to face him with a wide grin that falls so fast, you'd think he'd been shot. The high flyer grabs Alex by the shoulders, pulling him in closer and examining him with a terribly worried expression.

"Alex! What's wrong? You look so sad!" the older exclaims. The smell of the liquor on Justin's breath drifts over to him, and he feels even worse. Now he's ruining Justin's good time, too. But he can_not_ stay here, not right now.

"It-it's nothing. I just saw...no, nevermind. It's nothing." Alex manages to stammer, shaking his head. The high flyer isn't even listening, his ear turned toward the music.

Suddenly, Justin looks like he's had a brilliant idea. He grins widely at the younger once more.

"Y'know what you need? You and I should dance." he suggests, taking Alex by the hand and leading him to the dance floor.

"No, Justin, really, I'm tired of dancing. I just really want to go back to the hotel." Alex objects, trying to tug out of Justin's grip. Apparently, the liquor gives him strength, however, for Alex can't break free. _Or maybe I don't want to_, Alex thinks. He dismisses the thought just as quickly.

"Fuck you, you _love_ this song! You have annoyed the _absolute shit_ out of everyone with it! Now, you and I are going to fucking dance to it, Alex Riley." Justin replies, smile on his face as he spins Alex around to face him.

Alex swallows thickly when Justin takes his hips in smaller hands than he's used to and drags him so close they're touching as he begins to move. The high flyer slings his arms around Alex's wide shoulders, pulling his head down so low their foreheads are touching. Alex finds his hands drawn to Justin's hips, rolling his own hips against his friend's to the beat. When their eyes meet, Alex can _feel_ Justin literally taking his breath away, they're so close. The younger wonders if he's imagining the way Justin's looking at him right now, like he really wants him. It's a look he hasn't seen in a while, a look he fucking _misses_. Misses like the feel of Mike's skin against his, the sound of Mike's voice hot in his ear, the smell of the sex that lingered in the room for hours afterward. The sheer sensation of being _taken_.

When Justin unconsciously drags his tongue across his lower lip, Alex zeroes in on it. He knows Justin catches his quick intake of air at the sight, the way he pulls the slighter man in ever closer. If Alex is completely, totally honest with himself, he's wanted Justin for a nice, long time, ever since their feud in FCW, when he'd really had a chance to feel those muscles against his own for the first time. The thought had been buried, however, until recently, where it had begun to linger at the back of his brain, constantly there. Right here, right now, with Mike tonguing Jericho across the club like Alex hadn't even _existed_, with Justin looking at him with lust blown pupils and a face full of _want_, Alex thinks, he shouldn't even have to think about it. He takes Justin's face almost roughly in his hands, surprising them both when, with a renewed sense of focus, sense of self, almost, he leans in and captures Justin's lips with his own.


	8. Lost In You

**Chapter:** 8: Lost in You

**Author's Note:** Oh yea. Here it is. The sex. Enjoy. ;)

Justin's still not one hundred percent sure how he ended up here, the door handle to the hotel room digging into his lower back, his hands sliding under Alex Riley's shirt as the larger presses hard into him. He can't say he's complaining, though, especially the way Alex seems to writhe under his touch. It's almost needy. He never dreamed he'd see Alex react in such a way. Despite the fact that the younger had initiated the whole thing, suggested they come back to the room, he'd made it very much apparent that Justin is in control of the situation. There's a certain thrill to it that the high flyer's not used to, and it turns him on even more.

His hands drift around to Alex's spine and the younger arches his back at the feel, a sultry moan leaking from his lips. Justin's teeth sink into his own lower lip as he pushes Alex back in the same instant he slides the button down off his broad shoulders. He reaches out, shoving Alex even harder, a smirk forming on his face as the younger's legs hit the bed and fall out from under him, forcing him to sit. Justin tugs his own shirt off, tossing it to the side carelessly before moving onto his jeans. Blue eyes darken as Justin gets down to his black boxer briefs, steadily walking towards the bed. The high flyer raises a hand, motioning to Alex.

"Take off your pants, scoot back." he commands all at once.

Alex snaps to attention, trying to do both things at the same time. Somehow, miraculously, he succeeds. Even Justin is impressed, though he won't admit it, can't at this point. He feels his breath speed up at the sight before him, Alex Riley laid out on clean, white sheets, navy boxers tented in the front, chest heaving and eyes dark with lust. He hops up onto the bed, crawling over to drape himself over his friend. Alex tilts his head up with what almost sounds like a whine, meeting Justin halfway when his lips are captured in another messy kiss. He brings a hand up to rest on the side of the scruffy face above him. Suddenly an almost slutty groan is ripped from him as a hand wraps around his dick, stroking a few times carefullys through the slit in his boxers. He breaks away from the kiss abruptly.

"_Shit_, Justin, holy shit..." he mumbles, leaning his sweaty forehead against his friend's.

"That good?" Justin returns, his voice low and gravelly. Alex swallows roughly, manages to shake his head. Justin frowns. "What? Wh-but why not?"

The older sounds significantly concerned. Alex is shocked; he didn't know anyone still cared.

"Need, need _more, fuck_." his voice is strained as Justin twists his hand at the top, his hips arching off the bed momentarily completely against his will. He tries to catch his breath, wills himself to concentrate on speaking despite what the once-hand model is doing with those gorgeous fucking hands. "Need _you_."

Justin's eyes darken further, his face painted with shock, his grip around Alex tightening. He has to take a moment to regroup, zeroing in entirely on pleasing his companion. The younger's eyes squeeze shut tight for a beat before he's focusing once again through blurry eyes on his friend.

"Oh yea?" Justin questions, something like amusement evident in his tone. Alex ignores it in favor of the underlying level of dominance that's even more apparent. He licks his lips. "Need me to what?"

Suddenly, there's a thumb swiping repeatedly across the head of his cock that makes it damn near impossible to even think straight, much less speak straight. He swallows thickly once, twice, three times, clears his throat. Then, Justin's twisting his wrist again, and it's out of his mouth almost all in one breath.

"Jesus_Christ_JustinIneedyouto_fuck_me!" he exclaims, his hands flexing where they've come to rest on Justin's shoulderblades.

The hand disappears and Justin's right by his ear, breath hot on his skin.

"I'd be glad to." And Justin practically fucking _purrs_ it, accent thick, voice full of pure _want_, and Alex has to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning at the sound.

Justin can't really deny it, he's been thinking about doing something like this since the day after the younger had shown up all kinds of broken on his doorstep. Sure, he'd had some kind of puppy love crush on Alex way back when, but it had somehow devolved into full-blown _lust_ as of late, the high flyer almost itching with the need to touch his companion some days. Somewhere in the back of his head, a voice is screaming that it's only because Heath won't acknowledge his feelings, that he wants Alex simply because the younger wants him. He pushes it further back, choosing to listen, instead, to the one reminding him that Alex is hot, and he certainly seems to want it enough, and it's not as if he hadn't thought about it long before all this. Now he just has a chance to act on it, and he's certainly not going to say no.

When his slips back onto the bed, completely naked, condom and lube in hand, Alex still hasn't moved, staring up at him almost nervously. His pupils are still lust-blown, however, and Justin offers him a light smile, crawling back up to kneel between Alex's raised knees. He rests his hands on the larger hips, right over the top of the boxers. Alex's cheeks color lightly as Justin slides the fabric off his body entirely, throwing it to the side. Then, his knees are on either side of the high flyer once more. He throws his friend a shy grin when a small hand comes to rest on his hip again. Justin leans in slowly, pausing a breath away from Alex's lips, forcing the younger to close the gap this time, initiate it if he really wants it. With the intensity that Alex kisses him with, the South African certainly can't dispute Alex's wants now.

The younger breaks the kiss off with a wet smack at the feel of a finger circling his hole slowly, just enough pressure to make him moan. He opens his eyes just enough to see Justin's smirk before the finger is sliding in, all at once. His breath catches, his hands falling to the bed, his nails digging into the sheets. When he finds it once again, it with an almost whimper of a sigh, a light flush spreading across his cheeks. Justin feels his mouth drop open a bit at the sight, his pupils darkening even further. He only drags the finger in and out slowly a few times before he's crooking the tip up, brushing swiftly against Alex's spot. The younger lets out a new noise, and Justin's eyes open wider. He's filled with a new kind of excitement, especially when Alex's eyes slide open once again, locking with his own. The way Alex groans out his name makes Justin curse aloud, sliding a hand across his own erection a few times.

Alex, on the other hand, is even shocking himself at the way he's responding to the high flyer's touch, fucking himself down on the oh-so-talented hand when the second and third fingers are added. Justin is so very, noticably different from Mike that it's unreal, but he can't help it; he wants Justin, has for a long time. Suddenly, Alex is empty, and his eyes snap open, a low whine that's unfamiliar even to him slipping from his lips. He feels like something's missing despite that Justin's other hand has made its way back to his cock, stroking him ever so slowly. But then, the older is even removing that hand, stroking his thigh instead. He blinks a few times, looking down at the high flyer through lust coated eyes. Justin is staring at him in awe, biting down slightly on his lower lip as he barely touches himself. Alex moans the slightest bit, completely fixated on the sight. Justin's head tilts back in one of the most erotic groans the younger has ever heard, hands down. Then he's looking right back at Alex, pupils fully fucking blown.

"_God_, Alex...you're so fucking sexy. _So_ fucking beautiful, baby, you have _no_ idea." the high flyer whispers, draping himself over the younger once more.

Alex is dumbstruck by the words. It feels like it's been forever since he's heard anything of the sort. He grabs desperately at Justin's face, drawing the South African down into a passionate kiss, pouring his soul into it. Alex kisses with such an intensity that Justin has to move both his hands to the younger's broad shoulders to steady himself. Then he's breaking off with a moan of the high flyer's name, ardent desire in his eyes as he _pleads_ with his friend.

"Justin, Justinplease_please_, I, I can't, I _need_ this, need _you_, Justin, come on, _Angel_..._fuckme_, God."

He's almost whimpering, urging the older in his conquests. He can't believe he's this goddamned needy, but he can't seem to stop himself, either. He rolls his hips up, feels Justin's erection brush his own. The older lets out a gasp, rolling his own hips down once before drawing back completely. Alex lets his eyes slip closed, attempting to catch his breath. Suddenly, he hears the rip of a condom package, and his eyes are open once more, locked onto the way that Justin is rolling the latex onto his cock, biting down on his lower lip. Alex takes a deep, almost nervous breath, rolling over and sliding the upper half of his body onto the bed, leaving his ass on display. He hears Justin's breath catch behind him.

"Yea?" the high flyer questions breathily, a certain note of awe in his tone.

"Yea. Yea, please." Alex reaffirms, barely looking over his shoulder. He catches Justin's nod and turns back around, faces the wall with a near content smile on his face.

Justin's hands are shaking as he lays one on Alex's hip, gripping himself with the other. He hopes the younger doesn't notice, although he's almost certain he does. The South African takes a deep, steadying breath as he lines up, letting it out as he pushes in slowly. Alex nearly buries his face in the pillow under his arms, a low, obscene moan sliding from between his swollen lips. Justin's fingers dig into firm hips on either side, having to physically restrain himself from rushing. But then Alex is pushing back against him roughly, taking him all the way in, and Justin's breath leaves him in a quick _whoosh_.

"Fucking hell, _Alex_," Justin just _breathes_, slumping forward onto the younger's broad back just a bit.

"I said _fuck me_, Angel," Alex pants, tossing a smirk over his shoulder at the older. "That's what I meant."

Brown eyes widen, an eyebrow raising. That sounded like a challenge. Justin pulls out slowly, almost like a tease, and Alex nearly whines once more. The high flyer's face is painted with a smirk as he snaps his hips forward, slamming back in. The younger lets out a yelp, his back arching like a cat, his body surging forward just a bit. Justin doesn't even give him a chance to recover, just keeps fucking steadily into him, his pace never even slowing. If the way Alex is mewling, practically purring Justin's name laced with random praises and obscenities, is anything to go by, the high flyer is definitely doing something right. He dips down, presses soft kisses to the sweaty cross on Alex's back, his real last name. It makes him angle just differently enough that Alex is suddenly nearly crying in pleasure, Justin pounding dead center into his spot.

"Ohmygod, baby, you feel _so_ fucking _good_, Jesus, fuck. Goddamned _perfect_, you know that? So tight, so hot, so _damned sexy_. Mike's a fucking_ fool_, Alex. You're _fucking_ incredible."

Justin just babbles away, breath hot on the younger's ear, lewdness like he's never heard from the high flyer before spilling suddenly forth as if from a broken levee. Alex is unsure how he can form words, too overcome with pleasure, especially now that there's a hand on his cock as well, tugging on him roughly. He can't help it, fucks himself backwards and forwards at the same time. Justin is inonaround him, fucking _everywhere_. He can hear him, feel him, smell him, taste him, and he suddenly feels like he has to, turning his head around just enough to look at the South African in all his glory. And damn, is Justin ever glorious. His head is thrown back, his hair and skin both sweat soaked as he pounds deliberately into the younger man. He apparently feels Alex's eyes on him because he tilts his head back forward, lust black eyes focusing in on Alex. The high flyer reaches out, threads a hand into thin, brown hair as he drags the younger into a messy, dirty kiss. They get lost completely in each other for a moment, their tongues tangling together fervidly. Even when they separate, they don't go far, still practically breathing the same air.

"JustinJustin_shit_Justin, I'm so close, feels so _goddamned good_, Justin, _shit_." Alex finally manages, before breaking off completely once again into unintelligable sentences. The high flyer nods, tugs him faster.

"I know, I know, babydoll. I can feel it, feel you around me, fuck. Come on, do it, Alex. Let me feel you come undone." Justin replies, fucking him even harder.

Alex's knees are barely even holding him up anymore, the older forced to release his head in favor of supporting his body by the hip. The larger is actually fairly shocked at Justin's strength, although he supposes he shouldn't be. Still, despite Justin's words, he fights his climax, wants to feel his friend for just a few moments longer, however selfish it may be. The South African dips down, accent thick as he utters a string of what the younger assumes are curse words right against his tattoo. Then, the accent switches back to English.

"Alex, _come on_, I'm not going to release until you do, now _just fucking let go_." Justin pleads.

And that does it, Alex can't even pretend to hold on any longer. With a voice-cracking shout of the older's name, he cums, stains the sheets under him. It's not even a full moment later that he can fucking _feel_ Justin getting off as well, slamming deep into him and just holding, shaking right up against him. He whimpers at the sensation, so glad he gets the opportunity again, and with Justin Angel of all the fucking people, especially when his friend slumps forward to rest against his back even once his legs give out under them, not pulling out immediately. A fond smile rests on Alex's face, content for the first time in possibly months. He is so fucking satisfied. Justin's even peppering his shoulders with light kisses, stroking his hips. He actually feels...cared for. He looks over his shoulder with a slow nod, and then Justin's pulling out carefully, making a face as he takes off the condom and ties it off, tossing it into the trash can.

The high flyer collapses onto the bed next to Alex, lying on his stomach but facing the younger with a smile. Alex reaches out, strokes Justin's scruff lightly for a moment before drawing him in, sealing their lips together tenderly. When the kiss breaks, they both linger for a beat. Then they're blinking back open-eyed, locking gazes, more than happy expressions glistening across their features...and Alex feels his stomach clench. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly with a low noise.

"This was..._such_ a bad idea."


	9. As Long as You're Mine

**Chapter:** 9: As Long As You're Mine

**Author's Note:** I'm gonna go ahead and apologize for just in case the chapter after next gets delayed a little bit. I'm mildly stuck on the very end. This is why I hate posting chapter stories before I've finished writing them. Haha. Anyway. Enjoy. =)

"This was..._such_ a bad idea." Alex mutters, just loud enough for Justin to hear it.

"Excuse me?" the high flyer demands, sitting up abruptly. Alex follows suit.

"Ugh, no, wait, I didn't mean it like that! The-the sex was...fucking _incredible_, and it's not like I didn't want it or anything, just..." the younger breaks off, letting out a sigh and tearing at his hair, drawing a knee up to his chest. He stares at it instead of his companion. "I'm not over Mike. I'm not even CLOSE to being over Mike. The last thing I need is to alienate the one person who gives a shit about me by stringing him along as some, some rebound revenge fuck."

Justin is silent for a few long, empty minutes before he finally coughs out a laugh.

"Wow. That was a, uhm...surprisingly sober observation, Alex."

The aforementioned's head snaps up, his eyes locking with his friend's. His brow furrows in confusion at the sight of amusement in the brown orbs. Justin's slight smile falls away the longer Alex seems to ponder him.

"Wait, you were really worried about that? Alex, I'm hardly an idiot. There was no way you were going to be over Mike this soon. If you think I thought this was anything but stress relief, I sincerely apologize." Justin explains, eyes wide in slight amazement.

"What?" the younger basically breathes, astonished at the way Justin seems to be brushing the whole thing off.

"I just kind of figured, you seemed to need _something_, and you were asking for that, and certainly seemed to want it enough. And it's not as if either of us can deny it's kind of been a long time coming. But, Alex...you're definitely not stringing me along. I promise." the high flyer attempts to soothe his friend. Alex still looks kind of stricken, however.

"But I'm still in love with Mike! A-and, I..." he tries.

Justin takes a deep breath. He figures now's as good a time as any to let Alex in on the big secret.

"And I'm in love with Heath. It's fine. Really." he says softly, his eyes beginning to darken a bit. "If anything, I've been the one leading you on."

It's Alex's turn to fall silent, and he takes full advantage, letting the thoughts have a chance to sink in. Then, he's looking at Justin again, confusion setting in once more.

"But Heath's crazy about you." he objects quietly.

"Oh, I know that. You know that. Everyone knows that." Justin replies, a bittersweet smile flashing across his face. "Heath doesn't know that."

"Really? Is he blind? What the hell does he think it is?" Alex asks, almost to himself.

"Who knows? It's _Heath Slater_." Justin says, the smile turning fond.

The younger watches him carefully for a second. How had he missed it? Justin always stared a second too long, smiled a little too wide, hugged Heath a little too tight. He should have known. But then,

"Why haven't you told him, then?" Alex ponders the question, scooting closer to his friend.

"He's still convinced he's straight. I won't be the one to break that delusion for him. I can't even begin to imagine how he'd react." Justin returns. "I might lose him."

And Alex can't really argue with that. He remembers when he realized he might swing both ways, and might be attracted to one of his male friends. It hadn't been pretty. He looks to Justin with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry, man." he mumbles.

"Don't be. There's nothing I can really do. And you were _fantastic_, by the way. So really, I have no complaints." the high flyer shifts gears so fast Alex thinks he gets whiplash, throwing the younger a wink as he stretches out on the bed.

Alex blushes, ducking his head down a bit with a light grin.

"So, we're okay, right?" he asks, nervousness trying to sneak into his tone.

"Absolutely!" Justin reaffirms, reaching out and pulling Alex closer. "Seriously, it's fine. Nothing is awkward at all. If you want to do it again, that's alright. If you don't, that's cool, too. The ball is completely in your court, Alex. No strings attached, whatsoever."

Alex breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to rest on Justin's shoulder, snuggling close. Justin turns his head to press a kiss to Alex's head, laughing just slightly. He slides down further in the bed, makes himself comfortable. Alex follows suit, dragging Justin over and into his arms. He nuzzles into the high flyer's hair, taking a deep breath.

"I'm so glad." he lets out, almost all in one word. "I really couldn't afford to lose you, too."

"You couldn't lose me. You should know that by now." Justin replies with a yawn, blinking a few times slowly before closing his eyes all together.

And really, if Alex thinks about it, he does know. He and Justin may never be anything more than friends, but at least he does have that. He knows Justin has his back, no matter what. He mumbles his agreement into the high flyer's soft hair. They're both just about to drift off when the older's gravelly voice lights up again.

"What did you mean by revenge fuck?"

Alex laughs a bit. "I'll tell you in the morning."

"Alright. Goodnight, Alex. Sweet dreams." Justin mumbles.

The younger returns the sentiment, leaning down to kiss the back of Justin's neck, lacing their fingers together. Then, he falls into the best sleep he's had in weeks.

**III**

The first thing Alex notices when his eyes open the next morning is the sound of an alarm that's growing increasingly familiar. He reaches over Justin, grabbing the phone and silencing the ringing before setting the it carefully back on the nightstand. He props himself back up on his own side of the bed, staring at his slumbering companion for a moment. Justin looks so peaceful, so...happy. He runs a hand through the dark locks, grinning further at how soft they still are despite the previous night's events. The older stirs the slightest bit, almost nuzzling Alex's hand. Alex reaches out, shaking Justin's shoulder lightly. The high flyer groans, swatting the larger hand away as he rolls over onto his back, stretching even as he sleeps. The younger feels his mouth go dry as the blankets are dragged down tanned abs, Justin's morning wood evident even under the sheet. He'd be lying if he said he didn't still feel Justin from the night before. He swallows thickly. The other _had_ said if he wanted to do it again...

Before Alex even really has a chance to process what he's doing, his hand is edging under the blanket and inching its way over, gripping Justin's dick firmly. He uses the precum that's already managed to begin to bead at the head as lube stroking his friend slowly. Justin lets out a sigh that trails off into the smallest of moans, his hips lifting off the bed the slightest bit. The combination of that motion and the movement of Alex's hand cause the blankets to slide further down, leaving Justin's erection firmly on display. When Alex's mouth drops open, he doesn't even notice. He'd been so intoxicated the night before, so lust-drunk and completely focused on just getting Justin _inside_ him, that he hadn't gotten a chance to fully appreciate his friend. Now, he takes the opportunity, his hand slowing even further as he gazes upon the South African's body, drinks it up. His eyes darken the longer he stares at the older's dick, the way it's just the smallest bit thicker than Mike's, just barely noticably shorter, but still larger than average. He feels his tongue swipe subconsciously across his lower lip and takes it as almost a sign, leaning in and replacing his hand with his mouth.

Justin really moans now, rolling his hips up into Alex's mouth, hand automatically finding the younger's soft hair. Alex is suddenly incredibly thankful for how strong his gag reflex has managed to get over the last ten months. Nevertheless, he rests an arm across the older's hips, pressing him carefully into the bed as he sets to work, his lips sliding down Justin's cock once more. The high flyer groans again, his fingers gripping the hair below them.

"_Alex_, fuck, that's incredible. Don't _stop_." he mutters, marveling even as he drifts awake at the way Alex is working his tongue and lips carefully around his cock.

Alex's uses his hand to almost lazily stroke what won't fit down his slim throat, his head bobbing up and down quicker and then slower, almost teasing the older. It's a few mere moments before Justin's nearly whimpering. Once Alex removes his arm, as if to allow Justin to thrust up into his mouth, the high flyer can only bring himself to take advantage for a brief minute (but he does take advantage, shivering at the way Alex fucking _moans_ around his dick when he rolls his hips up, holding the younger's head in place by the hair) before he's taking Alex's face in his hands, drawing the larger up to press a messy kiss to his lips. They make out almost tenderly for a few long, comfortable minutes. Then, Justin's nudging Alex over, rolling the younger onto his back. He leans off the bed and grabs the lube that had been casually tossed aside in the chaos the night before, looking to Alex for a nod of affirmation before uncapping the bottle and slicking up his fingers. He warms the lube between them, looking at the younger with a soft smile before sliding in two at once.

A low moan works its way out of Alex's swollen lips, his head rolling back as he grinds down onto the fingers the slightest bit. Justin smirks, pumping them in and out only a few times before working the third in, scissoring them apart inside the younger. Alex nearly whines, his friend's name slipping out as well. He rocks down onto the slighter hand, urging Justin to just _find his spot_. The older takes it as his signal, retracting his hand and reaching for a condom from the night stand. Alex's legs are around his waist, drawing him closer before he even has a chance to roll it all the way on. He smiles down at the younger.

"Someone's eager." he whispers right against his friend's lips as he lines up.

Alex just nods, capturing Justin's lips in a soft kiss when the high flyer pushes in. The sex is much slower this time, each one fully content to draw it out and really have a chance to enjoy it, sober. They trade tender kisses as they fuck, soft phrases loaded with emotion painting their lips like a gloss. They come undone almost simultaneously, Justin's hand on Alex's rock hard dick, coaxing the orgasm out of the younger much more delicately than he had the night before. Alex is almost weeping with pleasure by the time Justin collapses on him, overstimulated by the way the older had continued to thrust for a few long moments even after they were both spent, trying to make the feeling last as long as possible. Alex runs his hands softly up and down the sculpted back above him, not even allowing the high flyer to pull out at first. Even if he won't admit it aloud, there's something about the feeling of being _filled_ that comforts him in a way nothing else has seemed to since that fateful day a few weeks before. He's missed it so much, he doesn't even have the words to describe it. Not that Justin is complaining. He's too busy licking carefully at the inside of the younger's mouth, listening to all the sounds Alex can make.

Finally, though, they're forced to separate, the need for air too overpowering for them. Justin pulls out in the same instant, and Alex makes a noise he's not used to, a noise he hasn't made since the last time he and Mike truly made love. The thought of the older makes him ache and feel guilty, all at the same time. He shoots a transparent gaze in the high flyer's direction. Justin just laughs lightly.

"Stop overthinking everything. I can smell the smoke from here." he jokes, reaching out to ruffle Alex's hair before pulling the younger down into a light kiss.

Alex is smiling a bit when he pulls back, and he returns it. Then, he's sliding off the bed and meandering to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he gets back, Alex is already sitting up in bed, regarding him with an almost bittersweet expression. Justin crawls back up onto the bed, coming to sit beside his friend and slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"What's on your mind?" the high flyer inquires, grinning at his compainion.

Alex takes a moment, seems to prepare his words carefully before responding.

"Y'know, if we had done this in FCW, I bet we could be really happy together right now."

Justin's smile doesn't even falter.

"Or we could have dealt with a messy breakup over the distance and the stress of starting a new full-time career. You never know." he returns. "Plus, then you wouldn't have ever gotten together with Mike."

"I'm starting to think that might not be such a bad thing." the younger mutters, turning his gaze to his lap.

"Alex...Don't think like that. Seriously. You had so many good times with him! You were so happy!" Justin tries to talk some sense into his friend.

"Notice that you're speaking in past tense." Alex reminds him.

Justin lets out a light sigh.

"He still loves you. You know he does." he says, a last ditch effort to reassure the other.

Alex falls silent, nodding just a bit. He's not sure what use it would do to argue anymore at this point. Justin feels awful, a pout drawing its way onto his face as well.

"Either way, I'm not saying that, on the off-chance Mike doesn't come to his senses and come crying and begging you back, and on the on-chance Heath never realizes he's got feelings for me, or worse, figures it out and reacts badly, that there's not a chance for us. But right now, we're both entirely too wrapped up in other people to even try and make anything work." Justin explains as simply as he can, pulling Alex close and pressing a kiss to his temple.

The younger turns to Justin slowly with a soft smile once more. Justin almost sighs in relief.

"Thank you, Justin. And you're absolutely right. Maybe Mike will change his mind." Alex says quietly.

"There ya go. Keep your chin up. Things will get better. You'll see." Justin replies, rubbing a hand over the younger's back gently.

"I think you should really re-think telling Heath, too, Justin." Alex admits, offering it over like advice.

The older's mouth draws into a light frown. He tosses the idea around in his head a moment. On the one hand, things could go terribly. Heath could stay in denial, spazz out, and blow things way out of proportion, destroying any hope of a relationship, ever. But maybe...maybe it could work out alright. Justin shakes the thought from his head.

"I'm pretty sure it's hopeless, Alex." he says softly.

And Alex can't even help it, has to lean over and kiss Justin just as softly, pulling back with a light smile on his face.

"You never know," the younger whispers, a breath away from Justin's lips. "You snagged me."

Justin's frown fades the slightest bit. It's enough to make Alex relax. Suddenly, he catches the time on the alarm clock out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, don't you need to get to Smackdown?" he reminds the older.

Justin's eyes snap open wide, his head whipping around to check the clock himself. He curses, leaping off the bed in a flash and rushing around the room, trying to pack his things and dress himself at the same time. Alex laughs before sliding out of bed himself, pulling his clothes on before helping Justin finish packing. It doesn't take any time between the two of them, and before they know it, Justin's ready to go, his bags slung over his shoulder. He turns to Alex with a wide smile, leaning back against the door. Alex leans over him, propping himself up with an arm draped above Justin's head.

"Well...it was certainly fun." Justin says with a light laugh.

"That it was. I'm, uh...glad you enjoyed yourself." Alex continues with the almost-joke.

"So you're not coming with me to the Smackdown taping?" the older asks.

"Nah. I think I'm gonna go back to the house and clear my head a little bit while I have the chance." Alex replies, still smiling.

Justin nods. "Sounds good. You'll call me if you need anything, though, right?"

"Absolutely."

The high flyer nods again, biting the insides of his lips. There's a moment where it almost seems as if neither of them knows what to do. Then, Alex is cupping Justin's face softly, capturing his lips tenderly one final time. They're both grinning when he pulls back.

"I'll call you later on, okay?" Alex questions, as if it would be a problem.

"You had better." Justin replies. He ducks his head down, a light tinge of pink decorating his cheeks. "I'll see you when I get home, Alex."

Alex gives his own affirmation. Then, Justin's slipping out the door and down to his car, driving away with the music blaring. He couldn't be happier everything managed to work out, couldn't be more relieved that he finally told someone about his problems with Heath, even if added stress is the last thing Alex needs right now. At least he seemed to understand. And who knows, maybe he'll be able to help. Either way, Justin's thankful nothing's awkward between he and his young friend. He certainly hadn't wanted to scare Alex away, even if the younger had been the one to initiate the whole thing. Suddenly, halfway to Smackdown, he remembers. What in the hell had Alex meant by "revenge fuck"?


	10. Damned if I Do Ya Damned if I Don't

**Chapter:** 10: Damned if I Do Ya (Damned if I Don't)

**Author's Note:** So I have had complication after complication trying to get the chapters after this one finished. I've even wound up having to get a new laptop in the process. So, if the next few chapters are a liiiittle slower than usual, just bear with me, haha. They will get finished and posted! I've also got a new project in the works and if it gets close to being completed, I'll start posting some of it, too. It's kind of out of left field though, haha. On another note, the scene that opens this chapter is a huge part of why I even wanted to write this story. That being said, enjoy. =)

For the life of him, Justin can't figure out what his tell is, but Heath somehow knows something's up the second he approaches his young friend in the locker room.

"Oh my God, you let Alex fuck you."

Justin cringes at the volume, shuffling in closer as quickly as he can. It's bad enough the way everyone had been staring at him when he'd walked in, definitely the last person to arrive. The last thing he needs is everyone knowing _why_ he was late.

"Jesus, Heath! Lower your voice!" he hisses, glaring at the redhead. "And for your information, no, he did not _fuck me_."

"If you say you guys made love, I'm gonna puke." Heath replies, his voice lowered, but blank.

The high flyer rolls his eyes.

"No, Heath. Neither of us is under any such delusions about the sex being anything other than stress relief. We're not stupid." Justin explains, unzipping his bag and beginning to chance.

It takes Heath a moment to process fully what the older has said, but once his has, his eyes are open wide. Unfortunately, so is his mouth.

"OH MY GOD, YOU FUCKED ALEX RILEY."

It's Justin's turn to grow wide eyed, slapping a hand over his friend's mouth.

"What the fuck, Heath! The whole locker room doesn't need to know!" he snaps, his voice low still. He hears quiet whispers that he only notices from the time spent in the original Nexus spreading throughout the room anyway, though, and rolls his eyes, removing his hand. He finishes changing as he continues speaking. "Oh, what's the use? I guess it's too late now. Yes, I slept with him, fucked him, whatever the hell you want to call it. And now, it's become everyone's business. Are you happy now?"

Heath is still staring on in shock. Justin figures there was really no point in keeping the younger's mouth covered anyway. It seems as if he can't form words. He opens his mouth as if to say something a few times, but no sound comes out. Then, he closes his mouth alltogether, lowering his head. Justin looks at him curiously, brow furrowing a bit.

"Heath?" he questions.

The redhead shakes his head like he's clearing it out and stands suddenly, pushing his bag into his locker and slamming it shut. He turns and swiftly exits the locker room without so much as another word. Justin watches him leave with wide eyes. He pulls on his armpads as quickly as he can, storing his own bag before rushing out the door, rushing to catch up with his companion. Heath doesn't even stop at the sound of his name, so Justin speeds up, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and spinning him around. When he meets the younger's eyes, they're full of hurt, and it takes him aback.

"Heath, what's wrong?" he asks, genuinely confused.

Heath seems unable to stop himself, just blurts it out, "It was a fucking joke! I wasn't _serious_, Justin! I didn't _actually think_ that you would have...dammit!"

"What?"

"I mean, I tell you I don't like the guy, and not only do you _move him into our house_, now you're fucking him, too?" Heath demands.

Justin's eyes narrow.

"Excuse me?"

But the younger plows on as if he didn't even hear Justin, "What, are you two, like, together now?"

The waver in his voice makes the high flyer pause. He catches the way Heath sniffles a bit when he catches his breath.

"What? No, Heath, it's nothing like that, really." Justin tries to reassure his friend, crowding in closer to him. "I just, we'd been drinking, and he was really upset, and it seemed like a really good idea at the time..."

"So it only happened once?" Heath asks.

And Justin should know better, but, "Well, no, but..."

He cringes at Heath's frown.

"Shit. I didn't mean that. Heath, it really didn't mean anything. I swear. He's still so in love with Mike it's ridiculous and I'm...I don't have feelings for him like that." the older explains slowly. He looks at Heath as solidly as he can.

"You promise?" the redhead finally replies, his voice small.

Justin nods. "I swear to you, Heath. It was just sex."

Heath seems to really ponder the response for a minute. Justin holds his breath. The younger still seems skeptical, however. Justin steps in closer to his friend,. He swears he feels Heath's breath catch.

"You have to believe me. I wouldn't lie to you about this." he says, his voice low.

The younger swallows. "I know, Justin, it's just...You _fucked him_."

"And that's all it was."

Heath finally relents, nodding slowly. With the movement, Justin realizes just how close they really are, Heath's red locks just barely tickling his forehead. Apparently, his face shows his discovery, for Heath's cheeks are suddenly tinged pink.

"Uhm." Justin stammers.

He watches as the younger's eyes dart between his lips and his own eyes, especially as tries to catch his breath, and he thinks, _no way_. But sure enough, Heath is leaning in just the slightest bit. The slam of a door down the hall breaks the spell, however, and Heath is back-pedaling as quickly as he'd leaned in.

"Shit. _Shit_." he mutters, running a hand through his hair roughly. "I, I have to uhm. I have to go. Talk to Wade or. Or something. I'll see you later, J."

And then he's gone, disappearing off down the hallway, still nervously fooling with his hair and mumbling to himself under his breath. Justin watches for a long moment before he lets out a sigh, leaning against the wall and staring at the ceiling. He can't believe it. Heath had nearly kissed him. Heath was actually _jealous_. Why in the hell hadn't he thought of this sooner?

**III**

The next few days are full of a hovering Heath Slater. It seems as if everywhere Justin or Alex turns in the house, they're greeted with an eyefull of red hair. If they go out to eat, Heath makes Alex sit across from him and Justin. If they watch a movie on the couch, Heath is between them. If they're riding in the car, Heath is always up front, whether it be driving or shotgun. Justin can't even find it in him to get mad simply because of the hilarity of it all (he only feels like a dick about laughing at the whole damn thing until he catches Alex snickering behind Heath's back as the redhead is inviting himself to practice with them bright and early one morning. Heath doesn't even _do_ mornings).

To Justin's surprise, everything's going great. Despite that his best friend seems to have become a human helicoptor, Heath seems to at least be getting along with Alex. It appears as though the redhead has accepted what Justin had told him about it just being sex, and Alex being no real threat. Alex, on the other hand, seems to finally be loosening up a bit, getting back into the swing of things. He's smiling, and laughing, and joking, and it all seems genuine. The high flyer is so relieved he can't properly put it into words.

And then Alex gets a text from John Cena. This fact in itself isn't really the strange part of it, since John hasn't exactly been the quietest about his advances since Alex turned up single. What makes it significant is what the text says:

_**Hey, did u really make it w Gabriel?**_

Alex instantly pales, nearly dropping his phone. Justin turns to look at him worriedly. The younger swallows thickly before he speaks, his voice low.

"Cena knows." he manages.

Justin feels his heart drop. This is all his fault. The second he opens his mouth to apologize, however, Heath is speaking up from his spot across the table.

"So what?" the redhead asks, biting into another french fry.

"So, if Cena knows, then Mike _has_ to know." Alex mumbles letting out a sad sigh.

"Alex, I'm so sorry. This is-" the high flyer tries again, but once more, Heath is cutting him off.

"And? What difference does it make if Mike knows?" Heath objects. "Didn't he dump you?"

Justin shoots him a look, and the redhead ducks his head down just a bit, taking a drink from his glass as a distraction.

"Maybe because it wasn't everyone's _business, Heath_." Justin says, staring him down solidly.

Heath almost cringes.

"No, Heath's right. It shouldn't matter, r-right? I mean, I'm single, I can do what I want." Alex tries, grinning a bit. Then, lower, "He _was_ making out with Jericho..."

The redhead's eyes widen just a bit. Justin's decidedly calm. _Revenge fuck,_ he thinks.

What he says aloud, however, is, "You probably won't even have to see him!" then remembers, "Except...for...your scene."

Instantly, he wants to put his feet in his mouth. Alex groans, dropping his face into his hands.

"Oh my God. I think I'm gonna be sick. I, I can't..." he mutters, shaking his head. "How in the hell am I supposed to go to Raw now? I can't face him, Justin."

"Yes you can, Alex. You'll be fine. I'll even go with you again if you want." Justin offers, feeling almost pathetic that it's all the help he can really extend.

Alex's look of distress turns to the slightest of smiles, and Justin breathes a little easier.

"Are you sure you don't mind? Mike is probably gonna be really pissed, man." Alex tries to explain to the older.

Justin just nods. "I'm positive. It's not a problem."

He nearly falls out of his chair, however, when Heath pipes up from across the table, "I'll come, too. Just in case Mike's too mad."

Alex's eyes are open wide as well. He seems speechless. He probably is, because it takes him a few tries before he can accurately stammer out a response.

"Yea. Yea, th-that'd, uh. That'd be fine. If you really want."

"Yea, man. Anything to help." Heath replies with a rather large smile.

Justin just turns back to his food. Every once in a while, Alex tries to meet his eyes. Justin's well aware that they're thinking the same thing: they're both counting the ways this trip is going to go horribly wrong.

**XXXXX**

"Two weeks! Two weeks, and the little asshole is out fucking someone else! No, wait, I'm sorry, he's out _getting fucked_ by someone else! And _Justin Gabriel_, of all the goddamned people!" Mike rants into the phone, pacing back and forth in the locker room.

"Not to defend him, but you came onto me last week, too, Mikey." Chris reminds him from where he sits once again in the corner, feet propped on the table before him.

"I was drunk!" Mike snaps, turning away from the phone momentarily.

"Maybe he was drunk, too." the older tries.

Mike just growls in frustration.

"Nobody fucking asked you!" he argues, turning back to his previous conversation. "Dammit, John, stop laughing! None of this is funny! I'm having an emotional crisis here, and you're going to sit there and laugh at me? Some fucking friend you are!"

"My bad, man. It's just, I've never seen you this particular about locker room gossip before." John explains, trying to stifle his giggles.

"My ex boyfriend wasn't fucking _Justin Gabriel_ before." Mike informs him. "I mean, _downgrading_? What the actual fuck?"

"Hey, now. You were in a mid-card tag team once, too." John argues. "Don't hate."

"News flash, John. Everyone thought you were downgrading, too. And we were on the same team!" Mike counters angrily. "And besides, we're not talking about me, we're talking about the fact that Alex is out letting Justin Gabriel dominate him in the sack less than a month after we broke up!"

"Man, you have really been thinking about this, haven't you?" Chris chimes in once more.

Mike groans. "Shut _up_, Chris!"

"He has a point." John agrees, though. "Why does this bother you so much? I mean, if you're really this upset about it, why don't you go tell him how you really feel?"

He hates that his friend is this distraught over his young ex. This breakup is hurting them both worse than Creative ever did. He just wishes Mike could see it.

"Y'know what? You're absolutely right, John. I'm gonna go give that ungrateful, insolent little _shit_ a piece of my mind." Mike suddenly announces.

"Michael, that's not what I meant and you know it!" John tries desperately to stop his friend, but it's too late. Mike hangs up the phone, slipping it into his pocket.

Immediately, Chris is on his feet, following Mike like a flash. He tries to block the door, keep Mike in the room. He knows it's no use from the start, but he figures it's at least worth a shot.

"Mike, seriously. I don't think that's what John wanted you to do. Why don't you calm down and think about this rationally for a second, huh?" Chris says desperately.

It's like talking to a wall. Mike simply shoves past him, suddenly on the warpath and out for blood. There's nothing Chris can even do now but chase after the younger, hoping he can at least prevent the oncoming tragedy a little bit. He spends the entire walk to Alex's new dressing room trying to talk some form of sense into the ex-champ. Unfortunately, it's not enough, and before Chris knows what's even happening, Mike has slammed through the locker room door and is storming in. Chris takes a deep breath before shuffling along behind him. He hears Mike's voice before he sees him.

"What in the fuck do you have to say for yourself? Huh?" the younger screeches.

He sounds even angrier than before. When Chris finally catches up to him, he can see why. Of course, Alex is there, glaring at the tongue lashing he's receiving from his ex. What equally shocks Chris and scares him to the core is the fact that Justin Gabriel and Heath Slater are there as well. When Chris turns to look at his friend's ex, Alex opens his mouth to speak. Chris feels his breath catch when Justin beats him to it, stepping towards Mike with almost sympathetic eyes.

"Mike, hey, look, I-"

And really, Mike doesn't mean to do it. Honestly. He'd only even sought out the younger in order to let his ex know how hurt he is that Alex seems to be over him already. He can't really help that the second he'd lain eyes on the South African, he'd seen fucking red, wanted nothing more than to jump on the young up-and-comer and kick the hell out of him. He knows it's stupid, and petty, and not Justin's fault _at all_ that he'd even been dragged into this whole stupid mess, so, really and truly, he doesn't _intend_ to. But suddenly, with a loud cry of, "You stay the _fuck_ out of this!", Mike lashes out, catching Justin hard right in the jaw with a mean right hook. The room goes silent when the high flyer drops.


	11. Loser of the Year

**Chapter:** 11: Loser of the Year

**Author's Note:** Getting rather close to the end here, folks! Unfortunately, I've had writer's block on the last chapter in the worst possible way, which is strange in itself because I know what's supposed to happen. It will get done, though! Even if it is a bit delayed. In the meantime, enjoy my longest chapter. =)

Alex thinks that Mike had better thank every God that's out there that he reacts as fast as he does, for the moment that Justin hits the floor, Alex is jumping to shield his ex, catching Heath by the shoulders as the redhead tries to rush him. He practically throws Heath back with a half glare, reminding him to check on Justin. Heath glares back at Alex for a moment before dropping to one knee, removing the high flyer's hand from his jaw so he can look at it. When Alex turns back to Mike, the older is cringing, backed up worriedly into Chris, the blonde's hands resting on his biceps. Alex's jaw tightens, his teeth clenching. When he steps forward and reaches for Mike's arm, Chris hands him over, pushing him into Alex's waiting grasp. Mike looks at his friend in shock, feeling suddenly betrayed, then nervously peers up into his ex's angry stare. He winces as Alex's hand tightens around his bicep, the younger dragging him closer.

"We need to have a fucking talk." Alex says through gritted teeth.

Mike finds himself nodding, trembling slightly. Alex turns to his friends.

"Heath! Get him to a trainer. Justin, I'm so sorry. We'll talk when I get back, alright?" he asks, his voice significantly softer.

Both of them nod as well. Then, Alex is telling Mike to "come on", and Mike allows himself to be tugged out of the locker room. Alex isn't even entirely sure where he's going, just drags Mike along behind him down a couple back hallways. The whole time, Mike doesn't even try to fight it, almost too scared of what his ex is going to do to him. Finally, Alex finds an empty room far enough away from the commotion to satisfy him, and he yanks the door open, throwing Mike in first. The older stumbles across the room, throwing out his arms to steady himself. He turns slowly, his breath catching at Alex's angry expression. The younger advances on him, a fire in his eyes Mike has _never_ seen before. It rattles his very core. Then, Alex is speaking, _yelling_ at him, and all bets are off.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

And if Alex had started with anything else, Mike thinks, he wouldn't have been quite so angry. As it is, though, he shoves his ex backwards, glaring back just as fiercely.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with _you_? Do you really think that lowly of yourself that you go turn into some, some _slut_ the second that I leave you?"

Mike suddenly finds himself slammed into the wall, concrete biting at his already injured back. When he opens his eyes from his wince, Alex is right in his space.

"You need to watch your fucking mouth."

He knows he should be feeling like a total asshole for the way he's talking to the man he loves so terribly much, the things he says without thinking, the way he just _reacts_, but he's too focused on the hoarse growl of Alex's voice that he's just now really hearing. He hates that he hears the way his brain can't seem to keep up with his mouth.

"I thought you didn't like sucking cock."

Alex growls and shoves him into the wall again, backpedaling away from his ex and running a hand through his hair. He wrings his hands in frustration, looking at Mike with a mixture of hurt and anger.

"No, you don't, don't get to _do_ that anymore! You don't get to make judgements about my sex life, Michael." he bites out, teeth clenched as he points an accusing finger at his ex. He crowds in close to Mike once again, emotion taking over. "You lost that right when you _dumped me_."

Mike scrubs his hands over his face, breathing deeply as he attempts to keep himself composed.

"Dammit, Alex," he says through his palms. When he meets the younger's own again, his are glazed with tears. "You're fucking killing me, here."

"Fucking...me?" Alex snaps in disbelief. Mike jumps when a fist collides with the wall next to his head. His eyes widen and lock with his ex's in worry. Alex's voice is desperate when he continues, and he slumps more and more with each word, bracing himself steadily on his forearms on either side of the smaller, as if it's taking everything in him to get a response out. It makes Mike nauseous. "Are you _fucking_ with me? _I'm_ killing _you_? God_dammit_, Mike, I...I-I just...Do you even realize what you're doing to me?"

"I'm protecting you, you idiot!" the older finally snaps. Once it's out, he can't believe he's said it. He fights the urge to clap his hands over his mouth. Everything he's worked for, all the walls he's built up, gone, in an instant, all because of a sad-eyed brunette.

Alex falls slient, his arms falling away from the wall slowly.

"What?" the younger almost whispers. "What are you talking about?"

Mike sighs, looking up at the other with huge, sad eyes. Alex feels like he's going to get lost in them once again, nothing here to hold onto. Thankfully, he's momentarily distracted by his ex speaking once more.

"Alex, let me ask you something. What is your current position in WWE?" Mike begins. He may as well explain, he figures. Cat's already out of the bag and all that (And besides, he _did_ just punch his ex's potential new bo...Justin Gabriel in the face. It's not as if he can really dig his hole too much deeper).

The question catches Alex off guard. He furrows his brow. What in the _fuck_ does that have to do with the topic at hand? Mike reads his thoughts, like always, which is amazing and frustrating at the same time.

"I swear, it's relevant. Just answer the question." Mike continues, deadly serious.

Alex has to actually think about it for a moment before he answers.

"I...guess I'm a...face?" He feels like he's affirming it with his ex even as he says it.

"That's right. Now then, what was your position last month?" the ex champ asks, a note of near condescension in his voice.

"I was...a heel. And your personal assistant. In main events. And I _still_ don't see what that has to do with _anything_ right now." Alex objects, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Really, Alex? _Really_?" Mike seems flabbergasted. He rolls his eyes, looking at the younger with what appears to be near exhasperation. "Tell me then, what's the only thing that's changed between then and now?"

And suddenly, it dawns on Alex like a spring morning. Mike can almost see the sun rising on his ex's face.

"No way," he nearly breathes. "No _way_. I got a push...because we broke up?"

"And we have a winner!" Mike exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. He lets out a sigh before practically shoving past the taller, forlorn expression set on his features.

_Then why do I feel like such a loser?_ Alex thinks, turning to watch Mike walk towards the door, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"I don't believe you." Alex hears himself whisper, watches Mike stop and whip back around to face him. He looks totally hurt.

"What's not to believe? Alex...why do you think they took the title from me? Why do you think you were a human punching bag? Why do you think they were even having _me_ be mean to you? Why do you think I kept having to go to Vince, fight for you so hard when a push could come so easily? Someone _knew_, Alex. And if they weren't going to break us up, they were going to break _you_." Mike manages, edging closer seemingly subconsciously. His blue eyes look so incredibly broken. Alex hates it. It leaves a terrible taste in his mouth, especially when the older speaks, his voice gravelly. "I couldn't let them do that to you."

Alex falls silent, staring at his ex in shock. But Mike just keeps talking.

"You were so miserable, all the time. So sore, and tired, always sad...and you were _never_ going to get a push. Every time I turned around, they had a new plan to try and get rid of you. Vince was so tired of seeing me in his office. But I wan't gonna let them just..." Mike breaks off with a sigh. "I couldn't let you get hurt like that. I'm hardly worth your dream career."

Suddenly, Mike's face is in Alex's hands, their foreheads brushing as the younger meets his mentor's eyes in sheer desperation. Mike's blue eyes widen as he realizes Alex's gleam with tears.

"Mike...you're an _idiot_." Alex mutters sadly. "How could you ever think that leaving me was going to help _anything_?"

The older looks as if he really has to process this statement for a moment, blinking silently up at his taller ex.

"But you got a push!" Mike tries, shooting Alex a look of almost bewilderment. "A face push at that!"

"At what cost?" he says softly, crowding in ever closer to the man who means so very much to him.

"But...you were so _unhappy._" the ex-champ objects, but even his protests are growing weak with Alex this close.

"Baby, I'm so much more unhappy now, without you here. Can you really not see that?" the younger questions, hurt swimming in his baby blues.

Mike knows he's going to be in a world of trouble if he doesn't get away from Alex, and fast. He can feel his resolve crumbling, every bit of resistance he's managed to build up against the other falling away before him the longer Alex is before him. It's driving him crazy, the mere scent of his ex making him want to grab Alex, pull him closer, kiss him until neither of them can breathe, make him come undone so hard he sees stars, make love to him until they're both senseless, unconscious. Whenever he closes his eyes to fight off the urge, however, he's overwhelmed with images of Justin Gabriel and the way he's been ever present lately, and the fact that he _fucked Alex_. He pushes his ex away with a half glare.

"Kinda hard to when you're getting fucked by Gabriel." he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Excuse me? Look, don't even go there, Mike." Alex replies, his own glare set firmly in place. He trails off into a murmur. "Like you have any room to talk."

Mike feels his stomach drop. Still, he's stern in his reply, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means? I know about you and Chris." the younger says. Mike can hear the ache in his tone.

"H-How...?" he manages, guilt flashing across his features.

"Does it matter? I _know_, Mike. And yet you still come in there and, and _punch Justin_? How could you?" Alex asks, sadness taking over his voice.

"I was jealous! Dammit, Alex, is that what you want to hear? That I looked at him, and saw his hands on you, and knew that I couldn't have you, and it made me _so mad_ that I couldn't even stop myself? I hit Justin because I was _fucking jealous_, okay? Fuck!" Mike exclaims.

Alex's eyes snap open wide in shock. Mike sighs, dropping his gaze. He hates this, despises what this company he used to love with his entire life has reduced him to. He swipes his hands over his hair, lets out a careful breath before turning wide, crushed eyes on his ex-lover.

"Alex, I'm an idiot. I think we can both agree on that by now. And I've made a _lot_ of mistakes, trust me, I know. It's just...you were hurting _so much_, and it was only going to get worse, and I just didn't know any other way to handle it! My pull with Vince was about to run out, and then I had no idea what they would do. I just knew it wasn't going to be good. So I did the only thing I could think of, because I was _scared_. I pushed you away, and I let them break us up, and you got your push and kicked my ass and the _whole fucking time_ I felt like I was going to _die_." Mike explains, voice full of raw emotion. The way his lips betray his every feeling is exactly why he'd spent all this time avoiding his ex, unable to ever hide anything from the younger.

"You think I didn't? You think I didn't wake up every single morning and go to sleep every single night in the worst pain I'd ever been in?" Alex questions, voice cracking.

Mike snaps up to meet his eyes.

"I know! Of _course_, I know, and that's why you went to Justin and I get that. He was just an innocent by-stander in the whole thing. I shouldn't have hit him, especially when he'e been so good to you, and for that, I'm _sorry_." the older says sincerely.

Alex feels his jaw drop open. He can't believe it, completely in shock. Mike rarely apologizes for _anything_, much less something as major as this.

"Are you serious?" the younger asks quietly.

"What, do you want it fucking engraved? I apologized! Isn't that enough?" Mike practically snarls, crossing his arms over his chest once more and turning away, his face red.

And Alex has to smile at this, and how typical Mike it is. He swipes at his face, hopes his ex misses the way the tears are gathering ever faster in his eyes. He _misses_ Mike, can't help it. Nothing gets by Mike, however, and the older turns to him with a look of concern. Alex dodges it, coughs out a laugh.

"Shouldn't you be apologizing to Justin?"

Mike rolls his eyes. "Yea, yea. I will."

Alex laughs lightly once again, then falls quiet. The silence that settles over them is thick, full of words they're not saying. Neither one wants to cave, afraid of finding out where they go from here. It's a few long minutes of carefully avoiding each other's gaze later that Alex finally clears his throat.

"We're uhm. We're not...together." he whispers, looking at Mike once again.

This makes the older perk up, confused.

"What?" he breathes.

"Justin and I. We're not dating. It was just sex. Stress relief."

Alex isn't sure why he feels the need to clarify. Mike dumped HIM, after all. The look on Mike's face, however, tells him he did the right thing. Blue eyes light up just enough, the hint of a smile beginning to show for the first time in weeks.

"Really?"

"Really, really." the younger replies with a grin.

Mike edges closer, dropping his arms almost in surrender. Alex, though, turns out to be the one to close the gap, taking Mike's face in his hands and meeting his eyes with a newfound seriousness.

"Mike..._baby_," he begins softly, and the older's face goes slack, suddenly focused on every word with the use of a single name, "The push, the belt, hell, the damn _job_...all of it means _nothing_ without you in my life. Can you even-_GodMike_-can you even understand that? I'm talented. I know I am. Pushes will come, and they'll go. I'll win that stupid belt, and I'll lose it again."

Alex grits his teeth, almost shaking with emotion. It's taking all he has to keep from breaking down. He has to take a moment and just _breathe_, steady himself, before he can finish.

"Dammit, I can get another _job_, Mikey. I can't get another you."

Mike can't even breathe, he's so taken aback by the blatant honesty in his ex-lover's voice. It has a waver to it, like Alex is struggling to even get the words out. And suddenly, it clicks. Everything his friends have been saying to him, trying to get him to realize, it all slides into place with a single glance at Alex's face. He doesn't even try to stop himself when, with an utterance of the younger's name, he leans up, taking Alex's lips with his own. He feels Alex almost sob in relief and wraps his arms around his waist, tugging him closer. As he slides his tongue into the younger's mouth, claims it as his own once again, he knows it's over. He can't keep the facade up any longer; he _needs_ Alex, and Alex needs him just as much. He's blown away by the sheer intensity by which Alex kisses him, can't believe his ex still cars this much, after everything. It takes them a while to pull back, pressing soft kisses to each other's lips even as they retreat, Mike's face still in Alex's hands. As they catch their breath, Alex attempts a smile.

"So...does this mean...you agree? You'll...you'll take me back?" he tries boldly, hopefully.

Mike is taken aback at how brave the younger is being, how honest.

"Is...is that what you want it to mean? Really? I mean, what if they-"

But Alex isn't having it, cutting the older off with another firm press of lips. He only retreats enough to speak when he finally does manage to pull away.

"I don't _care_! Are you not listening to me at all anymore? I don't give a _fuck_ what some asshole company wants to do to me! The only thing that even _matters_ to me anymore is YOU, Mike!" Alex exclaims, thumbs rubbing carefully over Mike's cheeks. Then, quieter, "I love you."

The words hit the ex-champ much harder than he ever thought they would, leaving him utterly breathless. He grabs onto the large upper arms in front of him, feeling as if not only does he need _something_ to keep him grounded, but he also needs to actually take hold of something to ensure the moment is real. He feels Alex tremble under his hands and looks up, directly into blue eyes so familiar, it makes his very heart beat faster. He's suddenly completely overwhelmed with emotion, and can't even help it as he almost whimpers a response.

"I love you, too."

Then, he's pulling Alex to him once more, claiming his lips in a terribly heartfelt kiss. He tries to pour every last drop of feeling that he's kept hidden for the last few wees into it, really make it count for the first time in a while. Alex seems to get the message loud and clear, allowing Mike to back him up to the wall this time, pressing him firmly against it with a perfectly sculpted body, one that Alex can't stop himself from running his hands all over, as if re-memorizing the features. The thought makes Mike press against him that much harder, exploring the very depths of the younger's mouth once again. He lets out a sigh of relief that borders on a sob as they separate, foreheads brushing. Alex pants, eyes wet, but happy for the first time in ages. Mike reaches down, taking Alex's hand in his own and bringing it up to eye level before threading their fingers together with a light smile of his own. He brings the hand to his lips, kissing the younger's knuckles lightly before lowering them between their bodies.

"So...?" Alex asks quietly, almost nervous once more.

"So...when do I need to come help you get your things?" Mike returns, smiling encouragingly.

Alex almost beams.

"Really?" he feels the need to reaffirm the decision before he gets his hopes up too much.

"Really, really." Mike replies, grin widening as even he begins to get more and more excited about the sudden turn of events.

"In that case..." Alex starts, spinning them around so Mike is facing the door, Alex pulling him towards it as he walks backwards, but never releasing their hands, "You can help with all of that right after you apologize to Justin."

Mike lets out a groan, but allows himself to be led from the room with minimal struggle. He's _really_ not looking forward to this conversation. But, as Alex tosses an almost exhubriant smile at him over his shoulder, gives his hand a light squeeze, he figures it's a small price to pay to have the younger back in his life once again.


	12. About You Now

**Chapter:** 12: About You Now

**Author's Note:** Holy shit! Look what I've finished! If it seems kind of rushed, I apologize. Totally wasn't my intention. Either way, hope you enjoy the conclusion of Landslide. =)

The second the door closes behind the two ex-lovers, Chris is turning to face the two in front of him, forlorn expression set on his face.

"Shit. Look, I know Alex will probably talk some sense into him...err, I hope...but look, I'm really sorry." he tries, feeling like an ass for not making more of an effort to stop his rather bull-headed friend.

Heath just rolls his eyes, shoots the blonde a, "yea, whatever," as he leads Justin out the door. The high flyer rolls his jaw around a few times experimentally as they walk, wincing as he runs his hand over it as well. He catches Heath frown out of the corner of his eye. The redhead scowls when he catches the staring.

"Well, it's gonna hurt, you moron." he almost snaps.

Justin frowns as well, turning away from his friend.

"Yea. Thanks for pointing that out. Missed it." the older responds, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He winces again at the way speaking sends a sharp pain straight up his jawline. "What the fuck is his problem, anyway?"

"Maybe he thought Alex was gonna keep it in his pants...unlike some of us here." Heath replies almost snidely.

Justin pulls to a halt, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up.

"Oh, are we really going back to this shit? Seriously, Heath?" he asks angrily, full on scowl across his face.

Heath whirls around to face him, frustration evident on his features as well.

"Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen? Mike was gonna come in here and congratulate you two? Shake your hand? God, Justin, sometimes you're such a fucking _idiot_!" Heath exclaims, throwing up his own hands in exhasperation.

"That makes two of us, then." Justin hears himself say under his breath. He instantly wants to retract the statement when his friend's eyes narrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the redhead questions.

"What do you _think_ it means? I think you're being a moron!" the high flyer snaps back, finally so fed-up with the whole situation that he can't even stop himself.

"Me?" Heath demands indignantly, slapping a hand against his chest as if to reaffirm his friend's accusations. "How am _I_ being a moron? I'm not the one becoming his friend's rebound fuck!"

And Justin has to admit, that one stings a little. He almost corrects Heath, even, because he's very aware of just how much of a rebound fuck it _wasn't_, but at the last minute, his mouth decides to say something completely different.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't _have_ to be my friend's rebound fuck if you'd get your head out of your ass and stop wandering around in _denial_ all the goddamned time!"

The second it's out, Justin feels his stomach hit his feet. He stares wide-eyed at Heath, so nervous he can hardly see straight. Although, upon further inspection, the high flyer realizes that maybe he shouldn't be. Bewildered is the only word Justin can even use to accurately describe the look on the redhead's face.

"What are you _talking_ about?" Heath asks slowly, pronouncing each word like Justin's the one being stupid. It makes the older scoff and roll his eyes. He's _had it_, so done with this back and forth game, these circles they keep dancing in that, no matter what, always seem to come back to Justin getting hurt. Well, he thinks, if he's going to get hurt either way...

"Oh, for God's sake..." he mutters, reaching out and grabbing his friend by the back of the neck.

When Justin drags Heath into a messy kiss, right there in the middle of the hall, the younger is so shocked he makes a noise. Justin smirks inwardly, though, using the opportunity to swipe his tongue just once across the redhead's teeth, tap his tongue before retreating almost entirely. He does tilt his head, though, threading his fingers into Heath's hair and pulling him ever closer as he deepens the kiss. Neither of them is certain which of them moves first, but the next thing Justin knows, he's pressing Heath into the wall, holding him there with strong hands on his shoulders.

At some point, Heath's hands drift down to clutch near desperately at the older's hips, and when Justin finally pulls back to catch his breath, he feels the redhead start to rub slightly at his skin just above his jeans. It makes him smile when he meets his friend's eyes, mere inches away from each other as they try to catch the breaths that just keep getting stolen away. Justin laughs lightly when he notices the light blush spreading across Heath's cheeks, ducking his head away just a bit. When he flicks his gaze back up to look at his friend, he realizes Heath still looks almost...shocked. Suddenly, Heath's eyes fix themselves to Justin's own, and the older feels trapped, lost in the redhead's stare for a moment. Heath is the first to find words.

"Oh," he breathes out, almost like he's realized something. Then, slightly louder, firmer, "_Oh,_"

Justin waits anxiously, staring on as the younger seems to process the situation. Heath looks his friend carefully from head to toe and back again, as if he's really and truly examining the high flyer. Justin's unsure if he's ever been so nervous in his life. Suddenly, his gaze slides back up and locks onto Justin's once more.

"_Oh._" Heath eventually repeats, something in his eyes having changed dramatically from earlier. Then, he sighs out almost fondly, "I'm an idiot."

The high flyer almost laughs, opening his mouth to respond, but instead, he finds his breath stolen once again by his friend's lips on his own. He sighs into the kiss, relaxing immediately in Heath's hands as they make their way up his rib cage, dragging his shirt up just a bit in their wake. He moves his arms to wrap around the younger's shoulders, allowing Heath to lean in a bit closer, tug Justin's hips to rest against his own. As Heath kisses him, finally letting out everything he's apparently been holding in so deep even he, himself, couldn't find it, Justin can't help but moan, leaning into Heath even more. The redhead takes it as an open invitation, sliding his hands up to grip Justin's face, deepen the kiss ever further. Unfortunately, he forgets about the knot steadily forming on the high flyer's jawline until right about the time that Justin accidentally bites down on his lip when he winces and pulls away. It makes Heath's grip on Justin's face tighten in reflex, and they both cry out in pain, hands flying to check their own wounds automatically. The second Heath's been reassured he's not bleeding, however, he's pulling Justin's hand away, looking over the older's bruise himself.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, man. I totally forgot." the younger rushes out, running a careful finger across Justin's jaw. He winces for his friend, leaning back a bit. "_Man_, that looks rough. We should really get you to the trainer."

Justin lets out an almost aggravated groan, slumping forward towards Heath the slightest bit.

"Can't we just stay here and make out?" the high flyer asks, looking up at the redhead with the best puppy eyes he can muster.

Heath just laughs, running a hand lightly through the older's hair and pulling him into a hug simultaneously. After a moment, he meets Justin's eyes again.

"How long?" Heath questions, and Justin's suddenly strikingly aware that he's not asking about the duration of a make-out session. He blushes, turning away a bit.

"I dunno." Justin eventually mumbles. He tips his head back to lock eyes with Heath once more. "Forever?"

"For real?" Heath breathes, almost in awe, and Justin immediately back-tracks.

"Well, I mean, if you wanna get technical, I wasn't completely certain until the Nexus stuff, but...basically since FCW?" Justin says, trying desperately to keep the nervousness out of his tone.

"Wow." Heath replies, really letting it settle on his brain. Then, he's pulling Justin back into another tight hug, tilting his head down to speak directly against the older's ear. "I really _am_ an idiot. Why didn't you say anything?"

"And risk losing you for good? No way." It's Justin's turn to lean back, now, nervously spilling everything he's been fearing all this time. "You were way too into girls. I wasn't going to be the one to try and convince you otherwise. You would have hated me."

"Are you serious? Justin, I could _never_ hate you. You're crazy." the redhead jokes, ruffling Justin's hair. He smiles softly at his friend. "Honestly, though, I get it. I'm just glad you said something now. Just...sorry it took all this."

Justin nods a bit, looking away once more. The two stand in the hallway in silence, still touching, for several long moments. Justin rocks back and forth awkwardly on his feet, unsure of how to approach the subject he's been dying to talk about for what feels like _years_. Eventually, he looks up at Heath, still trying to find the words, and something just clicks, the question tumbling out all at once.

"So where do we go from here?"

Heath meets his eyes instantly.

"Where do you want to go?" the younger replies, seemingly just as nervous as Justin is of the response he's going to receive. _Now or never_, Justin thinks.

"I want to _be with you_, Heath." the high flyer says firmly. "I want you to stop being in denial. I want to stop walking around pretending I don't care this much about you when I'm actually fucking _crazy about you_. I want _you_."

Heath's eyes have grown wide the more the older speaks. Justin knows he's spilling it all, but once he started, it had felt like he hadn't been able to stop. It's out now, though, and he can't take it back. Just as the redhead opens his mouth to respond, however, another voice rips through the silence, making both of them jump.

"Justin! Hey! I need to talk to you!" Mike's voice calls out, and they turn to see the ex-champ striding towards them with a purpose.

Despite that Alex is directly behind Mike, Heath takes a step in front of Justin protectively as they approach. Justin looks up in shock at the glare on the redhead's face when Mike stops in front of them.

"Anything you have to say to _my boyfriend_, you can say to me first." Heath snaps, and _whoa_, Justin thinks, _That was certainly unexpected_. When Alex shoots him a wide eyed expression of his own, he just shrugs, blush-painted grin on his face. Then, Mike scoffs, throwing his hands up in frustration, effectively shattering the moment.

"Really? _Really_? All of this for an apology?" Mike asks, annoyed look spreading across his features. Alex nudges him angrily, hissing out his name like a warning. It's Justin's turn to stare wide-eyed at his friend, Alex responding much the same way he had. Mike just sighs. "Fine. Whatever. Slater, may I please apologize to your little boyfriend?"

Alex rolls his eyes; this was _definitely_ not how he'd wanted this to go. But, if he's honest with himself, it's going about how he'd _expected_ it would, regardless. A fond smile settles on his face as he watches Mike's features soften, Heath moving out of the way, but still staring the older down angrily. Justin takes a careful step forward, looking directly at Mike as the ex-champ collects his thoughts. Finally, he exhales a deep breath before speaking again.

"Justin, I'm sorry I punched you. I still really care about Alex, and I was angry that you'd slept with him, but that's no reason to hit you. I shouldn't have let him go in the first place. It was my fault. So, I'm sorry." Mike says so sincerely that it honestly shocks Justin. The high flyer can't help but accept it, telling the older that he at least understands. Mike seems to visibly relax at that, a soft smile moving across his face. Then, he crosses his arms over his chest, looking at the Smackdown stars with a smirk. "Now then, I _was_ going to tell you that since Alex has so graciously decided to take me back, that you need to keep your hands off him, but, uh...judging by your little guard dog here, I'd say that warning is unneccesary."

"Very much so." Justin replies, amused grin of his own in place. "You have nothing to be worried about."

"Good. Well, then. We have a segment to go get ready for. Justin, Heath."

Mike nods to each of them, reaching down and lacing his fingers with his no longer ex lover's. He tugs Alex along closely behind him as they retreat back to Mike's locker room. Mike's pace is brisk, as if he's in a hurry. From the ecstatic look that Alex shoots them over his shoulder, Justin thinks he probably is. It makes the high flyer smile. Suddenly, Heath coughs, bringing him back to the situation at hand.

"I, uh. I guess we should get you to the trainer." the redhead mumbles.

Justin nods, content to let the younger drop the earlier question for now. When he reaches down and laces his fingers with the high flyer's as they walk, however, Justin figures he's already gotten his answer. Looking down with a wide smile at their intertwined hands, he knows for a fact he wouldn't have it any other way.

**XXXXX**

Alex is pretty sure he's never had this much difficulty putting on a suit. This probably has something to do with the fact that every piece of clothing he finally manages to get on, Mike goes right behind him and tries to take it off. The younger keeps objecting, but it's getting harder and harder, what with the way Mike's lips follow his fingers as the clothing is extracted from his skin. Still, he puts forth his best effort, squirming under his lover's hands.

"Mike...Mike, no! Stop it!" Alex exclaims, laughing and pushing at Mike just a bit. The older simply smirks, laughing against his skin. The feel of it sends a shiver up his spine, makes him unable to object for another long moment. Then, he manages to bring himself back to reality enough to finally get the older to take a step back. Alex holds Mike at arms' length as he speaks. "Mike, seriously. We have to be out there in like, no time. And you're not even dressed yet!"

Mike sighs, but takes another step back, allowing Alex to start buttoning his shirt back up.

"What can I say? You're just too fucking sexy in that thing." Mike says, grabbing at Alex's jacket and pulling him close when the younger tries to walk past him to slide into his shoes. Alex leans down, kissing Mike once briefly before slipping out of his grasp once more. Mike frowns, but wanders over to shrug on his own jacket.

"I appreciate it, Mike. Really, I do. But the last thing I need is to be late to the ring now that I'm getting a push. _Especially_ now that we've apparently got to be more careful." Alex reminds his lover, feeling instantly guilty as he watching Mike's face fall. But, the older nods, dropping down into a chair to tie his shoes. Alex frowns as well, walking over and dropping down to one knee in front of his lover, looking him dead in the eyes. "Hey. We just have to go out there and do this one thing. And we'll still be together after it's over, right?"

Mike nods again, his expression lightening a bit this time. "Of course. I'm never leaving you again, Alex."

Alex can't even stop the wide grin that spreads across his face. He takes Mike's face in his hands, sealing their lips together carefully. When they part, Mike is finally smiling as well.

"See? We're Gucci!" Alex jokes, and Mike laughs. "Honestly, though. How about after this me and you go back to the hotel and make up for lost time?"

Alex watches as Mike blushes, but agrees, relief spreading through his entire body. Then, he's standing up, pressing a kiss to Mike's forehead before exiting the room, remind Mike he'll see him in the ring. No sooner has the door closed than Mike is pulling his phone from his pocket, finally calling Chris in response to the various text messages the older blonde had left for him. Chris picks up on the first ring.

"I take it everything went well?" the older asks, amusement evident in his tone.

"Yup." Mike affirms. "Just calling to inform you that your services are no longer needed."

"So you finally sucked it up and pulled your head out of your ass, huh?" Chris questions. He figures it _must_ have gone well when Mike actually laughs.

"Something like that. But yes, we are back together." he informs the older. "You were right. I'm an idiot."

"Whoa! Stop the fucking presses! Did Michael Mizanin just admit that someone else was right?" Chris asks, facetious shock in his tone. "Riley really _must've_ done a number on you last week."

"Yea, yea, real funny. I've gotta go right now, though. Gotta get out to the ring and all that." the younger says, smile very evidentially still on his face.

"Alright. Well, I'm glad everything worked out for you." Chris replies. "Be careful, and try not to fuck up this time."

"I won't. He means too much to me." Mike says, almost to himself. Then, "Oh, and Chris? Thank you. For everything."

"Anytime, man. You know I've got you." Chris reminds him.

Mike agrees. He's definitely certain of that, now. They bid each other farewell, and Mike hangs up, setting his phone on the bench next to him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself not only for the verbal, but also the physical lashing that he's about to receive from his lover. When he opens them again, he's more than sure he can handle it. After all, at the end of the day, he gets to come home to his lover once again. _Finally_, he thinks. With that thought, he takes another deep breath, pushing himself out of the chair and making his way to the ring.

**XXXXX**

It's a different Alex Riley that walks to the ring that night, that's for sure. He's pretty sure he's never gotten this large of a pop before, besides the week before when he didn't get to fully appreciate it, too distraught over the loss of his love to even begin to think about anything else. Now that he knows he's going to be back in Mike's arms at the end of the night, he hears it for what it is, and it nearly brings tears to his eyes. It makes him stand taller, smile wider, walk with a bit more swagger in his step (well, that and his new entrance music, which, _holy fuck_, he thinks, _is that ever kickass_). By the time he gets to the ring, he can't even focus on Cole, too lost in his own thoughts and the sheer fact that the crowd is behind him for once. It's probably for the best, too, because he knows Cole is berating him for the week before.

It's not until Cole starts talking about Mike's personal life, his personal _feelings_ that Alex actually starts to get angry. Sure, he'd spent the majority of his and Mike's relationship so far barely tolerating Cole and his incessant need to be involved in as many of Mike's affairs as he could possibly manage, but now that the older man thinks the relationship is over and done with, Alex is no longer obligated to be polite. He outright glares at Cole as the man drones on and on, lies pouring from his mouth one right after the other at an alarming pace. For once, Alex can't _wait_ to get his hands on the announcer. He may get in trouble for what he's considering, but it'll be worth it, he knows.

As Cole throws out insult after insult, accusation after accusation, lie after lie, Alex can really only think about all the truth in the matter. He thinks about the night Mike threw him out, how quickly he'd had to learn to re-adjust to life without his love. He thinks about Justin, and how his friend had been by his side from the first moment Alex had needed him, and how somehow, he'd been able to be there for Justin as well. He thinks of Mike, and how the older had cared so much for him, he'd been willing to sacrifice his own happiness just to make sure Alex wasn't made a victim. And finally, he thinks of himself, and how much he's managed to grow in such a short amount of time, how he'd somehow been able to find his footing even after the rug had been mercilessly yanked from beneath his feet. There's something like pride in his heart, and it feels good.

But then, Cole's in his face, asking him to explain his actions from the week before, as if he'd done something so horrible it should never be forgiven. Really, if he's completely honest with himself, he can only think of one thing to say.

"Well, I'd like to say...I've never felt better in my life."

And when Alex thinks about the statement later on, curled around an equally exhausted and sweat-drenched Mike as they half-doze in the afterglow of round four, he knows, without a doubt, he really meant it.


	13. Epilogue: Landslide Reprise

**Chapter:** Epilogue: Landslide (reprise)

**Author's Note:** Aaaaaaand, so it ends. Been kind of a wild ride. I really hope everyone enjoyed it. Superstoked all of you stuck with me, even through the writer's block. I really hope, at the end of the day, that I was able to do this story justice, because I felt like there was a lot to say here. Either way, here we are, at the epilogue. Hope you enjoy. =)

"Jesus Christ, how much stuff do you _have_, Alex?" Mike exclaims, arms loaded down with bags as he makes his way out to the truck.

"Hey, don't look at me. You're the one who bought most of it." Alex fires back with a smile, following closely behind his lover with a box in his own arms.

Mike drops the bags unceremoniously in the bed of the truck, shoving them as far back as they'll go. "Well, then, I'm gonna stop buying you stuff. This is ridiculous."

"Uh huh. Yea, I believe that." Alex returns, straight faced as he can be. "You're also gonna bottom all the time, too, right?"

"Whoa! Hey! Some of us _do not_ need to hear about your sex life." Heath objects, tossing the box he's carrying over the side of the truck and into the bed.

Justin's eyes are wide as he rounds the vehicle to set the bags he's carrying carefully in the truck bed before checking on the box Heath had thrown. "Heath! Be careful! That could have been breakable!"

Alex just laughs.

"Relax, Justin. I'm not gonna let Heath carry anything fragile." he reassures the high flyer, patting him on the shoulder as he turns to head back into the apartment. He looks over his shoulder at Justin with a smirk. "Who do I look like? Mike?"

The ex-champ's eyes widen and he darts after his lover. "Hey! Are you calling me an idiot, Riley? Get back here!"

"Wait, why am I not allowed to carry breakables? Alex, you asshole!" Heath cries out, following the parade inside.

Justin smiles and rolls his eyes, walking casually in behind them. They're almost done, he reminds himself, and then he and Heath can relax and finish the talk they'd started on the plane ride home. If it were anyone else, Justin's pretty sure he would have made them wait a day, but it's not as if he could deny Alex, especially not knowing how ecstatic he was to be moving back in with Mike to begin with. Besides, he and Heath had waited a few years already. What was a few more hours for a friend, right?

Eventually, there's only a few bags left, and Mike and Heath offer to take them to the truck like the good boyfriends they are. Alex and Justin both sit down on the bed, looking around the much emptier room in silence. After a moment, Alex turns to his friend, an almost nervous smile on his face.

"So...this is it." he says softly.

"That it is." Justin replies, his voice just as low.

They both fall silent for another moment, looking away from each other once again. Eventually, Alex turns to Justin again, releasing a deep breath.

"Man...so much has happened."

"I know." Justin agrees quietly, slight smile on his face. "Can you believe it's only been two weeks?"

Alex laughs. "No! God, it feels like it's been _months_."

"I know, right?" Justin replies, laughing as well.

When the laughter dies down, so do their words, their eyes darting away once again as they fall quiet. The silence is almost uneasy, the way it hangs in the air with unsaid words. Finally, Alex is turning to Justin once more, this time with his full body.

"Justin..." he almost whispers.

When the high flyer turns to face him as well, Alex envelopes his friend in a tight hug.

"Thank you, man. For _everything_. I don't know how I'll ever repay you." he informs Justin softly. Justin smiles widely, pulling back enough to make eye contact with the younger.

"Don't worry about it. What are friends for, right?" Justin reassures his friend.

Alex still clings to Justin's hands even as they pull away, almost as if he's afraid to let the older go. If he really thinks about it, he might be. After all, Justin really has been his rock in all of this, his solid ground. What's he supposed to do if something happens with Mike again? Or something worse? The thought makes him squeeze the high flyer's hands a little tighter in fear. Justin, though, ever the best friend, senses his unease, and he steals one of his hands back delicately to rub across Alex's back.

"Hey. You'll be fine, alright? And if anything ever happens and you're not, you know where to find me." Justin says softly, looking right into his eyes. Alex finally smiles, relief washing through him. Justin has a point, after all.

"Definitely." he agrees. Then, quieter, "I'm gonna miss you, Justin."

At this, Justin feels his face color, and he forces himself to look away. If he's perfectly honest, he's going to miss Alex a little more than he should. He's been stealthily not thinking about it, though. Still, he returns the sentiment.

"I'm gonna miss you, too. It's going to to be weird not having you here now."

"It's gonna be weird not _being_ here." Alex agrees, grin on his own face. "But you're right. I'm gonna be fine. Hell, we're _both_ gonna be fine! We're with the guys we love, and we've still got each other. Right?"

"Right." Justin says, nodding. After a beat, he lowers his voice a bit. "Alex, I'm really proud of you. You really are a new Alex Riley."

Alex takes a moment to think about the statement before he responds.

"Y'know, I'm proud of me, too. I really have grown a lot, right?"

"Definitely." Justin repeats with a grin.

Suddenly, Mike's voice is calling them from down the hall.

"Hey, you two wanna go to dinner? I'm buying!" the older offers.

Heath's voice lights up almost instantly. "I call shotgun!"

The two smile at each other, shaking their heads even as they rise and head into the living room.

"No way are you sitting next to me all the way to and from dinner. That spot is reserved for _my boyfriend_." Mike is arguing with Heath the second they step into the room.

"But I called it!" Heath bickers, and Justin can't even help but laugh out loud.

"I don't give a shit! It's my car!" Mike snaps back.

"Oh, let him have shotgun." Alex says lightly, coming up to hug his lover from behind. Mike instantly visibly relaxes, at least the slightest bit, before sighing and rolling his eyes.

"Okay, _fine_." the older finally agrees. "But if you touch the radio, I'm breaking your hand."

"Whatever." Heath calls, already rushing out the door.

"I mean it, Slater!" Mike yells, hurrying out after him.

Alex and Justin just laugh. Riding in the car with everyone on the way to the restaurant, Ke$ha's We R Who We R blaring loudly through the speakers despite Heath's million protests, Alex realizes just how much his life really has changed. Three weeks ago, he'd been wrapped up in Mike, every part of his life completely revolving around the other man, and he'd been content with that. Two weeks ago, he'd been completely shattered, lost, with no idea where to turn. Last week, he'd been so confused and stricken he'd slept with his best friend. Now? Now he's riding in a car with two of his best friends (however unlikely) and his boyfriend (who almost no one could know about), listening to his favorite song, and he's _happy_. Happy with his lover, happy with his job, happy with his friends, and most importantly, happy with the knowledge that no matter where life takes him, he can handle it. He's a brand new Alex Riley, as Justin has so often said, and he wouldn't have things any other way.


End file.
